Same Coin, Same Cloth
by The Hope Lions
Summary: Prince Arthur Pendragon practices magic, and everything is different. Abandoned
1. The Dragons of Camelot I-Unexpected

Hello. If you've read any of my stories before, you'll know I normally write well ahead and update daily. That is NOT the case with this one. I haven't written anything besides this first chapter. That being said, I tend to write very fast, so while updates won't be on any set schedule, if people are showing interest, they will be frequent. Anyways, this idea simply popped into my head at two AM, and had to be written. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. That being said, I'm not sure anyone _can_ own Merlin. He and Arthur have certainly been around long enough to be in public domain.

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Chapter 1- Unexpected

Merlin Ambrosius was a naïve young man in many regards. He was quite aware of this fact, and, in a way, he enjoyed it. His inexperience at life made it seem all the more wondrous. He had seen so few things in his life that whenever he saw something new, it was extraordinary. Yet he was no so naïve as to think that, even if he was well traveled and versed in the world, he could have looked upon the great city of Camelot with anything but wonder. It was huge, sprawling streets, houses of all shapes and sizes crammed next to each other. There were people everywhere, bartering, bantering, brawling. Merlin ducked and weaved just to walk without being hit; if he'd tried going in a simple straight line, the whole city would have collapsed upon him.

Even more impressive than the city itself was the castle of glittering white stone set high above everything else, and reaching towards the sky. It's spires and towers seemed to stretch up towards the clouds. Its walls seemed strong enough to hold back a giant, and so it was legend to have done. (Not that Merlin believed the stories. He was fairly certain giants did not exist, and never had). Still if giants did exist, Merlin knew they wouldn't find their way into The Citadel. It was only a few decades old, built by the sweat of men, and yet with a power entirely beyond the human ability. Merlin could have stood there and marveled at it for days, except he probably would have been trampled by the crowds if he even slowed down for a second.

Still, Merlin was excited, because not only did he get to see The Citadel up close, he was going to live there. He, Merlin Ambrosius, was going to live in the great castle. Jitters of excitement seemed to sizzle across his body, down his arms and legs, up his spine. When he'd left home, he knew he'd find something incredible at the end of his journey, but he'd been completely unable to picture such grandeur. He'd imagined the castle to simply be like his Lord's Manor, if perhaps a bit bigger. Instead it was three times the size, and he was going to live there. It almost made his exile worth it, just to see the great castle, just to touch it.

"Get out of the way, you git!" A man called, and Merlin jumped to the side of the road, just in time to avoid being crushed by a cart. He was half terrified by the near-death experience, and half thrilled. It was certainly more exciting than anything else that had ever happened in his (relatively short) life. Of course if he didn't want that life to end shortly, he figured he had to keep moving, keeping making his way through the city, with his head down, and ears perked up for any signs of trouble.

He made it to the castle gate without further close calls, and was stopped immediately by a guard. Merlin's heart thudded in his chest, even though he knew he wasn't doing anything wrong. Merlin was always terrified around knights of Camelot. He'd been trained well in that regard. They would, after all, kill him the moment they discovered his magic. That tended to make them a bit frightening.

"What's your business here, boy? I see no wares to sell," the knight questioned

"I'm here to see my uncle, Gaius, he'd the court physician," Merlin answered, making sure to keep his gaze just below the knight's. He didn't want to look defiant, or like he was planning trouble. He'd been knocked to the ground by many knights because 'he had a challenge in his eyes'. Since Merlin didn't know how to avoid having a challenging gaze, he just kept his eyes down. The knight didn't bully him, so it must have worked. Instead the knight nodded, and removed his hand, letting Merlin pass into the castle courtyard.

Merlin did not know where he was going, but since there were fewer people in the courtyard than out on the street, he took the moment to just look around. This close to the castle he truly couldn't see where it ended, and the sky began. It just seemed to go on forever. Merlin felt very, very small. He was actually fairly tall, but the castle made him feel a different kind of small. How could a nobody become any more insignificant? Merlin didn't know it was possible before he stood before the castle. It was.

Merlin was roused from his contemplation by shouting coming from the side, and jumped out of the way as three knights rode in, one of them slumped over his saddle. The man had a large gash in his leg, which bled across the courtyard. Merlin watched, transfixed, as they ran by, dragging the man. It was only after they were done that Merlin realized they were probably his best chance of finding his uncle. After all, it only made sense to bring a wounded man to the court physician. Luckily (for Merlin, not the man obviously) there was a clear trail of blood for Merlin to follow. The sight of it didn't bother him, not after years of helping his mother as she worked, but he noticed others making faces at the humor, and carefully stepping around it. Merlin thought that was silly; everyone bled at one point or another. It was what made them human.

The trail of blood led into the castle, and up one of the towers. Merlin was only halfway up the steps when the two uninjured knights came stomping back down, practically pushing him out of the way. Merlin scooted to the side the best he could, and clung to a protruding stone to keep his balance. Once they were gone he finished his assent, and sure enough the door at the top read in fancy script- Court Physician.

Merlin opened the door to find an old man running in circles around the unconscious knight. He hadn't really thought about how this was a bad time to make his introduction to his uncle, but now stood there feeling absurd. His uncle looked up, and shouted, "Boy, can you thread a needle?"

Merlin nodded, running over to where he saw the needle and thread. carefully he ran the needle through the fire, and then he threaded the string, knotting it, and handing it to his uncle. His uncle didn't question it one bit, nor notice the extra step Merlin had taken. He just began wiping at the wound, and sewing it up the best he could. Merlin couldn't help himself; he got closer. The wound wasn't deep, just long, running almost entirely across the man's leg. He was lucky that whoever attacked him hadn't taken the whole leg off.

"Out of my way boy!" His uncle howled. "I'll be with you in a minute."

Sheepishly Merlin backed up, but then he noticed the knight was waking up. He moved over to the knight, and spoke to him. "Keep still. You're going to be fine. It's just a flesh wound."

"I'm gonna kill that bloody prince," the knight growled through gritted teeth.

Merlin didn't know what to say to that, but his uncle did. He turned around, glaring at the knight, "Sir Ewan, look me in the eye and tell me you did not challenge Prince Arthur to another duel. I told you, the King has forbidden me from stitching you fools up!"

The knight said nothing, but Merlin realized his uncle looked very nervous. Would he actually be in trouble for helping the injured knight? Merlin didn't want his uncle in trouble, even if he'd technically never met the man. "I can do it. No one has forbidden me," he suggested.

His uncle looked at Merlin for the first time, actually taking in his appearance. He saw the glistening blue eyes, the stark black hair. He saw the curve of the chin, the slight upturn of the nose, and Merlin could tell his uncle recognized him. (In part because he next said) "Are you Hunith's boy?" Merlin nodded, and his uncle handed over the needle. Carefully he did the stitches, just as his mother had shown him. The knight was grumbling and growling about a meager boy tending to him, but Merlin ignored the knight. He kept his attention focused, and only when he was done and had covered the stitches with bandages, did he turn away.

Despite saying he couldn't help, his uncle double checked the stitches to make sure they were properly done. He must have approved of Merlin's work, because he smiled, "Now, Sir Ewan, thank Merlin for being here to deal with your foolishness and get out of my sight!"

The knight didn't thank Merlin, not that he expected him too. Instead he swung his legs off the table, standing up slowly. His injured leg quivered, and the knight grunted in pain, but he stalked out of the chambers without a word of complaint, limping heavily as he did.

Gaius finally turned towards Merlin, "I see your mother taught you well. You can help me until you find other work, then."

Merlin liked the idea of that. His mother's meager salary had come from healing the people of Ealdor, and he'd always enjoyed helping her. Of course, she'd never let him help to the extent that he truly could, if he used his magic, and Merlin doubted his uncle would let him either. Actually, Merlin wasn't sure what his uncle knew about his magic. Surely his mother had warned him? He was technically harboring a sorcerer, a capital crime, so he at least deserved to know it. Yet Merlin couldn't bring himself to ask. He'd never spoken of his magic to anyone but Will. Even his great-uncle was too much of a stranger for him to bring it up with.

"Here, this is the key to your chambers, they're nothing fancy, but they'll do I'm sure," Gaius told him, tossing him a key. Merlin reached to grab it, and succeeded only in knocking over a whole table of potions. Without thinking, his eyes flashed gold, and the mess froze in place. Merlin blushed bright red, and dared to look up at Gaius.

"You didn't even use a spell," Gaius whispered, looking both horrified, and dangerously intrigued. "How did you do that?"

Merlin went to explain that he didn't know, that he'd always done that, but then the door opened. Immediately he let the everything fall, shattering on the ground. The new arrival, a man about Merlin's age, with dirty blond hair and a tough look. He had to be a knight, for he wore the red cloak that always sent shivers down Merlin's spine. Merlin really hoped the knight hadn't seen anything. Luckily, he didn't appear to have, but he stormed over the mess and grabbed Merlin by the ear, "Are you vandalizing the Court Physician's supplies? I'll have you flogged for wasting valuable medicine."

Merlin tried to pull away, but the knight's grip on his (admittedly large) ear was too tight. Luckily, Gaius came to his defense, "It was an accident Arthur, though I think a beneficial one. Prince Arthur, this is my great-nephew, Merlin. I think I have just found a solution, Arthur, to your revolving door of manservants. Merlin, you see, is a warlock."

Merlin thought his heart would give out that very moment. His great-uncle had just outed him to the literal _prince_ of Camelot. Apparently, family counted for nothing, and now he was going to be killed. Merlin was thinking of all the ways to fight them off and run, when he realized the Prince was not reaching for his sword. No, no he actually was smiling.

"Really? Oh that's fascinating. Well, Merlin, I suppose it is nice to meet you. I am constantly having to find a new manservant to keep any one from getting suspicious."

Merlin opened his mouth, then he shut it. He blinked, once, twice. _What?_ He didn't understand at all what was going on. Gaius was smiling. Prince Arthur was sizing him up, but with a curious look in his eye. No one seemed to be looking to kill him for his magic, which is what should have happened by any known logic. It made no sense at all.

Prince Arthur laughed at him, "You're a bit thick, aren't you? My manservant spends all day with me, you see, so they're far too likely to notice whenever I do magic."


	2. The Dragons of Camelot II- Magic

I was excited by the response to the last chapter. So long as people are reading, I'll write. (I'm not trying to blackmail you into reviewing or anything, but I certainly am inspired by them.) On that note, kilguarrah-the-gr8-dragon asked for chapters to be a bit longer, so I'm doubling the length. That's the real benefit of reviewing- I listen. I really don't have much planned out for this story so if there is anything you want (or don't want) to see- ships, characters, subplots- let me know. I'll tell you now that I don't like rehashing the episodes i, so I'll be coming up with my own little 'episodes', and if you have a suggestion, I'll gladly take it.  
Anyways, enough of me.

ENJOY!

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Chapter 2-Magic

 _Prince Arthur laughed at him, "You're a bit thick, aren't you? My manservant spends all day with me, you see, so they're far more likely to notice whenever I do magic."_

It took Merlin a good minute to process what exactly Prince Arthur had just confessed to. Camelot's Prince having magic was such an absurd notion that Merlin had to stop and ensure there was no better interpretation of the Prince's words. Merlin even took a second to consider the interpretation that 'magic' was a nickname for a girl Arthur was having an affair with. Truly, though, Merlin knew the correct interpretation was the obvious one. Once he realized this, there were a thousand questions in his head. He couldn't decide which to ask first, and ended up mixing them together into something that sounded vaguely like, "How when magic yours born?"

Prince Arthur raised an eyebrow, and looked to Gaius, "I think I'd prefer a new manservant every week than one that cannot even string together a sentence."

Red spread across Merlin's face, stretching up to his ears, and he didn't hold back the biting remark that crossed his mind, "I'd prefer to be an idiot than a prat."

Prince Arthur scowled deeply, but then Merlin noticed a twinge of his lips. He looked almost amused, "Well then, I'm glad that we are in agreement then- Idiot you shall be. Come on, Idiot, follow me to my chambers and I'll show you your duties."

"Hey! I never even agreed to being our manservant, Your Pratiness. In fact, I don't think I'd like the job at all!"

Merlin could tell Prince Arthur was not used to being denied anything. The Prince moved until his nose was practically touching Merlin's. He was trying to look intimidating, but Merlin wasn't frightened. For one, he was just a hair taller than Arthur. Moreover, Merlin knew that, whatever magic the Prince had, his magic was stronger. He could take Arthur apart with a thought.

It's possible this would have been tested, but Gaius had the sense to step in at this moment, breaking the two apart. "Merlin, the position of manservant is not only honorable, but well paying. You would be far safer as well, hiding right under the King's nose, as Prince Arthur does."

Merlin didn't even understand how Prince Arthur could be hiding his magic from his father. Merlin's mother knew of his magic, how could she not, with his eyes glowing gold and things flying around their cottage when he was only hours old. "Oh yes, it's entirely safe to be a warlock around the Prince of Camelot. He has never killed a sorcerer in his life," Merlin snapped, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. He was shocked, however, by the way Prince Arthur bit his lip and turned his eyes away from Merlin. He didn't exactly feel bad, though; the Prince was only ashamed because he had something to be ashamed of.

Still, Merlin also found himself impressed by the way Prince Arthur recovered, and looked him right in the eye, "You are correct- I have killed sorcerers, many times. I only kill those who harm others though. There are many people who use magic only for evil, and they deserve death the same as a man who uses a sword for evil."

Merlin agreed to that of course, but he was still very suspicious of the Prince. He'd heard too many stories of the evil knights of Camelot. He knew how they roamed villages, arresting anyone who brought the slightest suspicion to themselves. His mother always made sure that Merlin heard every tale of Camelot's cruelty to magic users, hoping fear would keep him in line. She'd certainly succeeded in making him properly fearful; she'd never succeeded in keeping his magic in line. (As the incident with Gaius showed, Merlin could not help but use magic.)

"When your father arrests people, women and children even, simply for having magic, what do you do? I see your father is still alive, so you clearly haven't fought him to defend the innocent, as the knight's code bids you. Does he have to lock you up every time a pyre burns?"

"Merlin, Arthur is in a very difficult situation…" Gaius began, but Arthur held up his hand, stopping the physician. He said nothing, studying Merlin. Merlin didn't like the way Arthur looked at him, as if the Prince was trying to figure out just how someone like him, someone so gawky and common, could speak so plainly to him. Merlin didn't quite know either, but he knew he could. He knew he must. If Prince Arthur could give him a good answer to his question, if he could say that he was locked up each time a sorcerer died, then Merlin would trust him. At the moment, Merlin did not.

"No, he does not. In my younger years, when I began to practice magic, I tried to free all those accused of sorcery. I tried to fight my father. I found myself locked up, on the brink of banishment, and all sorcerers killed on sight, without even the trials they once had, so there was no time for them to escape. I made things worse, trying to help while my father was still king. I had to regain my father's trust by cooperating, by arresting sorcerers… by killing them. I don't expect a commoner like you to understand that if I push my father, and he disinherits me, the whole realm will fall apart. My father has no other heir, no family even, to take over. If I was banished, or worse killed, Camelot would fall into civil war, and in the end the most ruthless general would rule. If I cooperate now I can change the laws when I am king."

Merlin saw the logic in it, but it made his heart ache. Why should they have to live in fear, die in fear, now, just so they could be free in the future? Why couldn't Arthur be King now, if he would be such a good one? "You could kill your father, be King now."

Prince Arthur closed his eyes, and nodded slowly, "Yes, I could, but it wouldn't be right. Regicide, Patricide- you cannot begin a reign with violence and think it will end in anything else. My father is wrong about magic, but he's not evil. In all other matters he's a good and fair King. Even with magic, he only hates it because he thinks it's evil. I can't… I can't kill him, and I cannot let another do it either. For better or for worse, he is my father."

Merlin decided he did not like Prince Arthur. He did not like him because the Prince was right. Merlin wished he could think that the ends justified the means, but he certainly wasn't willing to kill the King to stop the persecution of magic users. It just didn't seem right, to use violence to end violence. If he'd never considered killing the King, never wanted to kill the King, it was hypocritical of Merlin to expect Arthur to do so, especially when Uther was his father.

"Fine, I suppose… well I suppose, if it does pay well, I'll be your stupid manservant," Merlin muttered. Prince Arthur seemed like, well like a royal jerk actually, but he did need a job. He also was curious about how the Prince had managed to hide his magic from the most paranoid person in Camelot.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Remember what Gaius said, _Mer_ lin? It's an honor to be my manservant. Honestly, I'm not sure you'll even be able to do it. Follow me to my chambers, and we'll see if you're even strong enough to lift my sword, never-mind polish it."

Merlin muttered a few curses under his breath, and looked at Gaius. He wasn't entirely sure he liked his great-uncle, considering he'd started this whole mess by casually telling the Prince of Merlin's magic. If this ended poorly, which Merlin suspected it would, and he ended up without a head, he was going to haunt Gaius.

Arthur said nothing as he led Merlin through the castle, which suited Merlin just fine. The Prince seemed to swing between deep sincerity when talking about magic, and pompous cruelty when talking about Merlin. Somehow Merlin doubted they were going to talk about magic while walking past scores of servants and knights, which meant that the only conversation would probably have revolved around Arthur insulting Merlin. (Not that he was afraid to insult the Prince right back.)

The Prince's chambers were large, unsurprisingly, and a complete disaster. There were clothes thrown across the bed, and mud on the floor. The steel armor chest plate had a big dent in it, and a tray of half-finished food on the table. Merlin couldn't help but ask, assessing the disastrous state of the room, "How long have you been without a servant?"

"I fired Morris this morning after he realized my fire was lit before he even arrived. Isn't it dreadful how quickly things fall to shambles?" Arthur replied, shaking his head. The sincerity in his voice made Merlin want to hit his head against the stone wall. Somehow he knew, even then, that bashing his brains out would hurt less than trying to keep the slobbish and incompetent Prince afloat.

"Couldn't you do all this yourself with, I don't know, magic?" Merlin asked, trying to imagine how he was even supposed to start cleaning up the mess. He hoped he could use magic at least to do it, even if Prince Arthur wouldn't. Otherwise he'd probably be working until morning just to clean up from the one day.

Arthur looked confused by Merlin's question, "How has someone as daft as you managed to survive this long? Of course I cannot use magic to clean my chambers, _Mer_ lin. It would be entirely suspicious if they were clean when I'm known to be lacking a servant."

"Or maybe they'd just think you'd learned to clean up after yourself, like any reasonable human being knows how to do," Merlin muttered under his breath. He said it too loud though, and Arthur heard. The Prince responded by scowling, and then grabbing a goblet from the table, and throwing it at Merlin's head. Merlin dodged easily enough that he knew Arthur hadn't actually intended to hit him, but it certainly didn't improve his feelings for the Prince.

Luckily Arthur moved on without saying anything else, "Besides, it's not like I know the spells. My first spell I learned by chance after hearing a druid use it, and the handful of others I know come from a book Gaius gave me. It's not easy to learn spells when you can barely read the text, and it's not as if I can simply go out and find a teacher to help me. Why, do you know the spells?"

"Spells, of course not. I don't know any spells at all!"

Arthur stilled, looking completely baffled, "But Gaius said you were a sorcerer. How can you be a sorcerer and not know any spells?"

Merlin hadn't even known people used spells to cast magic. He'd never met anyone else with magic before, and he'd certainly never needed a spell to cause chaos, "I've simply always had magic, even when I was a baby. It's not like I try to use magic, only an idiot would. I simply think about what I want to happen, and it does. Half the time things happen even when I don't want them to!"

Was it different for Arthur? He seemed legitimately shocked by what Merlin was saying, so it had to be different for him. Except that meant, "You weren't born with magic? You _learned_ it? Why would anyone learn magic on purpose, especially when their father would kill them for doing so? You'd have to be… you'd have to be insane!"

Arthur looked then like a cat who'd puffed up their hackles in an attempt to look impressive. His words, however, were anything but, "Or simply a rebellious teenager. My father hated magic, and I hated him. I thought, if I learned a few spells, well honestly, I wasn't really thinking much. I was curious about magic, and wanted to learn it to anger my father, but as soon as I did I realized he could never know. Even the few spells I'd done would be enough for him to kill me. But you're saying you didn't learn magic, that you were born with it? How is that even possible?"

"I… I don't know. I always supposed everyone with magic was born with it, that they simply couldn't help but use magic. I would do anything to get rid of my magic, do you know how unfair it is that you just went out and learned it? That you chose to do something because you were feeling rebellious whereas I would die if I didn't use my magic?" Merlin was steaming. He could not believe that Prince Arthur was so stupid, so selfishly blind, that he'd actually want to know magic. Moreover he was simply angry to know that it was a choice. Why? Why had Arthur had a choice when he never had? Merlin had grown up on the floor of a hovel, desperately hoping no one ever discovered what he could do. Arthur had grown up in a big fancy castle and willingly chosen to break the law. It just wasn't fair. It made Merlin despise Arthur.

It made Arthur feel like a fool. He sat down at the foot of his bed, not fighting back as Merlin got upset. Instead his face fell, and he whispered, "I never… I never knew that was possible. If you had no choice, then that makes my father's persecution so much worse. How… How can you kill someone for something they are born with?"

That was a question Merlin had asked his whole life. He'd never wanted to do magic, and he couldn't believe that people did. He'd only ever wanted to be rid of his magic, or if he could not, live without fear of the power inside of him.

Someday he would. It hadn't truly clicked in Merlin's head until that moment, but someday he wouldn't have to be afraid. They couldn't kill Uther, it just wasn't right, but he'd die someday. Everyone died someday. If Merlin could help Arthur, protect Arthur, until that day… he'd be free. They'd all be free.

Arthur was still a prat, but Merlin decided he didn't have to like the Prince to support him, to serve him. In fact, Merlin made a vow in that moment that he would always serve Arthur, to the day he died, if it meant freeing those with magic. Maybe he'd even be able to make Arthur a bit nicer along the way.

Arthur stood up, clapping his hands, and snapping Merlin from his thoughts. "We'll have to ask Gaius about it, he is possibly the only one who would know. For now, however, I would like to see if what you say is true. Clean my room without saying a spell."

Merlin very rarely tried to use magic. He'd only ever done it once or twice, when feeling particularly lazy. Each time his mother spanked him until he could hardly sit, and cried to remind him how devastated she'd be if he got himself killed. Now, though, Merlin was about to use magic in front of the Prince of Camelot himself, and he was doing it with permission. "Is the door locked?" he asked, and Arthur nodded.

Merlin took a deep breath, and then tried to imagine the room looking the way it should. His eyes flashed gold, he felt the power within him rise up, tingling his toes, snaking up his legs, and chest, until it seemed to burst out in every direction. The room responded, but not exactly how Merlin had hoped. The clothes jumped into the dresser with such force that the dresser toppled over. The armor melted on the spot. The goblet Arthur threw jumped back, hitting Merlin in the head, before shattering the window and falling into the courtyard below.

Merlin surveyed the mess his magic had made, and looked up at Arthur. The Prince looked both horrified, and impressed. Finally he laughed, "Well, I suppose this means you shall not be using magic to do your chores, at least until you learn control. Though, if I'm ever in a fight, I want you by my side. Something tells me you'd simply make your opponents trip on their own swords."

Merlin figured he'd probably make his allies trip on their own swords, "Do you think, if I learned spells, that I'd have more control?"

Arthur shrugged, walking over to the broken window, "I don't see how you could have less. I've never had the problem of a spell being too powerful, simply too weak. Come here and try it. I made sure to learn the repairing spell first. The phrase is 'béte'"

Merlin worried about trying any more magic after his first little mishap, but he supposed Arthur couldn't get upset over something he suggested. Besides, Merlin would already undoubtedly be spending the rest of his day cleaning by hand, so it really couldn't get worse. With that mindset, he moved to the shattered window. Merlin allowed his magic to rise up within him once more, feeling the way it tingled within him, bursting to come out, but this time he didn't let it. Merlin clamped down on his magic, imagining just a tendril of it escaped him, and said, "béte".

It was… well it was like magic. The glass shards that had fallen to the floor rose right up, falling back together as if they'd never been apart in the first place. Once it was done, Merlin saw Arthur, blue eyes wide, run his hand over the smooth glass. There wasn't a single cut on his hand when he pulled it away, not a single shard out of place. For the first time after using his magic, Merlin felt happy. He'd used magic, and nothing bad had happened. No one saw. No one got hurt. Everything, literally, had just fallen into place. He couldn't believe it. He wanted to run and jump, but he would have felt ridiculous doing so before Prince Arthur. He couldn't hold back the wide grin that spread across his face, however.

Arthur noticed, "Quit smirking, remember this is your fault in the first place… Though do you think you could try it on my armor. That was expensive."

Merlin moved over to the melted breastplate, but then had a second thought. He'd heard of Prince Arthur doing magic, but he hadn't actually seen it. It was only fair, if Arthur got to see Merlin do magic, that Merlin got to see the same. "Why don't you try?"

Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes, " _Mer_ lin, you're the one who broke it, and you're the servant. I am a prince. I don't repair my own armor. If I did, then what would be the point of servants."

"To do the other dozen things you're too pompous to do?" Merlin gibed. Arthur glowered at him, but Merlin got the sense that, truly, the Prince wasn't annoyed. In fact, Merlin was beginning to suspect that maybe he didn't annoy the Prince at all, or, if he did, that Arthur liked being annoyed. Merlin imagined it had to be refreshing for the Prince to actually hear the truth every once in a while. Not only was his whole life a lie, since he had to hide his magic behind hatred for magic, but he'd probably never been reproached in his life, except maybe by his father. Arthur was a pompous git, but who wouldn't be, if they'd been told every day of their life how wonderful they were.

Merlin, however, wanted to make the Prince a better person, not a worse one. There would be no boot-licking from him, and he suspected Arthur would learn to appreciate it, if he didn't already. Besides, Arthur most likely would put up with a lot, if it meant he had a servant around whom he did not have to hide his magic. (Though Merlin still struggled to understand why someone would want to do magic without having to.)

"Do you know what I think? I think you're afraid that you'll be unable to do it. You hate that I'm better at magic than you. You hate that I'm better at anything than you," Merlin taunted, knowing that a prince like Arthur could never resist a challenge. He was proven right almost immediately. Arthur rolled his shoulders back, and crouched down besides the puddle of steal. He squeezed his eyes shut, screwing up his face as he did. Merlin bit his tongue to hold back laughter.

"Béte," Arthur clearly stated. Merlin felt an itch on the back of his neck, but nothing else happened. Perhaps the steal moved an inch, but it certainly did not reshape. Arthur opened one eye and saw Merlin watching him expectantly. He cracked his knuckles, and turned back to the puddle. "Béte," he repeated. This time the material did certainly shift, but it still didn't work.

Merlin knelt down beside Arthur. "When you do magic what do you feel?"

"I suppose it's similar to being dunked under water. Gaius doesn't like talking about magic; he refuses to risk using it these days. But when he realized I could not be talked out of using magic, he wanted to ensure I was safe. Gaius… he's always been very good to me. Anyways, he said that there is magic throughout nature. The trees, the sky, the earth- magic surrounds us. You have to find it around you and pull on it to make a spell work."

Merlin, somehow, wasn't surprised by Arthur feeling the exact opposite of what he did. He'd already begun to see that his magic was different. Arthur used the magic around him, but Merlin, if he was correct, used magic that was already within him. Merlin released magic, and Arthur took it. Merlin wondered if it would even be possible for Arthur to use his own magic to cast a spell. (He did not suggest this, however. The idea of Prince Arthur messing with Merlin's magic made him feel very uncomfortable.)

Still, it gave Merlin an idea. "I told you magic comes naturally to me. I try to control it, but I don't always have the ability to do so. I don't think magic is supposed to be used; I think it's supposed to be channeled. If you say magic is all around us, then you have everything you need to cast a spell just as powerful as mine. Feel around for the most powerful source of magic around you, then open yourself up to it, drown in it, and channel it with the words."

"I don't know why I'd listen to you, considering I am the one who had to teach you the spell," Arthur grumbled, but Merlin could sense that he listened. This time Arthur shut his eyes, but kept them closed gently, not by contorting his face. He no longer seemed in pain. Instead, he seemed entirely at peace. After a long pause, Arthur whispered once more, "Béte."

Merlin fell forward as a surge of magic flowed through him. He'd gotten his answer about Arthur being able to pull magic from him, and it felt just as terrible as Merlin expected. He thought he was going to be sick, but as quickly as the pain came, it went. The world stopped spinning, and he saw Arthur's eyes on him, and the chest-plate looking shinier than the day it was forged.

"Did you just fall?" Arthur snickered looking very proud of himself. "By God, Merlin, you're quite useless, aren't you?"

"Oh no, I'm just your humble servant, after all. Take my magic, won't you," Merlin scowled, and Arthur's eyes went wide. Merlin nodded, and Arthur offered him a hand up. Merlin, after a moment's hesitation, accepted it. Once he stood up he felt back to normal, but something was off. It took a moment for it to click in Merlin's mind, but then he realized exactly what happened. Arthur had used his magic, his very powerful magic, to repair the armor… and everything else. Arthur's chamber's looked perfect, probably nicer than it had looked in years.

"Do you think that is normal?" Arthur asked, looking around. He didn't look like an arrogant prince then. He looked almost scared. Merlin could relate. This was certainly not how he'd expected his first day in Camelot to go.

"No, Arthur, I don't think any part of this is normal."

"That's Prince Arthur to you," he reminded, but Merlin knew he'd never use Arthur's title again, not in private at least. Once someone has used your magic, you're close enough to call them by their name.

 _"_ _Merlin."_ Merlin jumped at the raspy voice. Arthur didn't seem to hear it. He'd moved away from Merlin towards the wall. There he removed a stone from the wall, and pulled out an old book. Merlin went over to see it, trying to forget the voice. The writing in the book was strange. At first, Merlin couldn't read it, but after a moment the letters seemed to make sense. He could hear the words in his mind, in his core.

 _"_ _Merlin."_

Merlin looked around, but still found no source for the voice. He turned back to the book, studying the pages. Arthur did the same, but Merlin noticed how he bit his tongue as he did. "It doesn't make sense, obviously, but if you sound the words out a few different ways something normally happens."

"I can read it," Merlin confessed, flipping the page on the old book. He saw a spell for opening locks, and a spell for shutting doors. There was even a spell which supposedly let you walk through doors, though Merlin did not like the note which said the spell required 'malice' to be properly effective.

 _"_ _Merlin."_

Arthur still didn't seem to hear the voice. He was studying Merlin, and eventually sighed. He appeared almost in pain as he spoke, but he said the words anyways, "Well, _Mer_ lin, I suppose, if magic can do your chores for you, then you'll have some time to translate this book for me. It wouldn't be suspicious if I was to spend time alone with my manservant. We could… teach each other."

 _"_ _Arthur."_ Arthur's head snapped up, his eyes wide. Merlin realized he wasn't simply going crazy; the Prince could hear the mysterious voice too. _"It's time, young Prince, for you both to come to me."_


	3. The Dragons of Camelot III- Dragons

There will be a long Author's Note at the end, but I just want to say here that this fic should from now on be updating on Mondays. Don't feel obliged to read the note at the end either, but if you'd like more information on my thoughts or a say in how this fic goes, you might want to read it.  
One way or another, ENJOY!

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Chapter 3- Dragons

Arthur looked rather panicked, and started rapidly flipping through the pages of the book. After a moment, he must have remembered that while he couldn't read the ancient language, Merlin could, and would have a much easier time finding whatever Arthur was looking for. "Can you see if there is a spell in there to put out fires?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow, unsure if he actually wanted an answer to his question of, "Why would we need that?"

Arthur bit his lip, and then loudly sighed, "Well, that voice… I know who it belongs to. There is a dragon, beneath Camelot, and he doesn't, well he doesn't exactly like me. Actually I think he rather hates me.'"

Merlin couldn't help but think that he would get along with this dragon rather well. "If you've angered him enough for him to set you on fire, I doubt any spell will stop him from killing you. I think we should simply go and see what he wants."

Merlin could tell from the way Arthur was looking at him that the Prince thought he was completely out of his mind. Merlin, however, suspected that they would be perfectly fine. For one, Arthur had obviously met the dragon before, and he hadn't been killed them. More importantly, however, was that you don't tend to invite people over when you plan on having them for dinner. Besides, Merlin wanted to meet a dragon. He'd always imagined dragons were made-up creatures designed to scare people. The idea of dragons being real, and there was one casually hidden beneath the great city of Camelot, fascinated Merlin.

Of course, Merlin also had no reason to believe that the dragon would set _him_ on fire. He probably would have been more hesitant to go meet the creature had it been mad at him and not Arthur. Yet it wasn't, so Merlin fully intended to go and see what it was that he wanted. It was up to Arthur whether or not he came as well; Merlin doubted there was a single being on the planet who could make Arthur do anything.

"Where are you going!" Arthur called as Merlin began to walk out of the chambers. Merlin didn't stop, and sure enough Arthur came running, fuming, but not turning back. "I don't think you understand what I am saying, _Mer_ lin. There is a dragon. A very large dragon. Sitting beneath Camelot in chains because of my family, and he doesn't like that I practice… well you know. Marching right down to see him would be the stupid thing to do. Now while I understand you might be in the habit of doing the stupid thing, I rather am not, and would very much like to continue breathing."

Merlin didn't pause walking, or even slow down, as Arthur spoke. He didn't entirely know where he was going, even, but he just followed the dragon's call. Somehow Merlin could sense where it had been coming from, even though the beast was no longer whispering his name.

"Merlin! I order you to come back here and think this through!"

Merlin stopped at that, but only so he could look Arthur in the eye and make himself very clear, "No. I am to be your servant, not your slave. You don't own me Arthur. You need me, and I need you. So I'll polish your boots, but when it comes to things… things of _magic_ … you need to trust me. I can usually sense when I'm in danger, and I feel fine now. So are you coming, or am I going alone?"

Merlin watched Arthur consider his options. He seemed to be weighing the value of forcibly dragging Merlin away, or simply letting Merlin go at his own peril. Yet Arthur has seen Merlin's magic. Arthur had never seen anything like it before, surely, and (though he didn't know it), he'd never see something like it again. Arthur did magic, but even he could tell that it was very different for Merlin. Somehow, when it came to matters of magic, Arthur did trust the scrawny servant.

So Arthur sighed, and began leading the way towards the dragon. Merlin grinned, though luckily Arthur didn't see, or he probably would have been more exasperated than he already was. The two of them walked silently, Merlin falling a step behind Arthur, so that the passing nobles and servants who greeted the Prince did not suspect anything was amiss. Merlin had to give Arthur credit; he was an impressive actor. Merlin hid his magic with wry grins and trickery; Arthur hid his with sheer confidence. Of course, Merlin still couldn't comprehend why anyone would want magic if they didn't already have it, but it seemed to suit Arthur, somehow. Merlin didn't understand, but he knew it anyways.

Arthur led them down a normal stairway first, and then through a door of stone Merlin probably would have missed alone. There were no people in the underbelly of the castle, nor any light. Merlin couldn't see anything, but then he heard Arthur mutter, "Forbaerne," and suddenly they had a torch. Merlin made a note of the spell, and followed the Prince further beneath the castle. It was chilly, dark, and had an oppressive feel to it. Merlin wondered how a dragon could possibly be hidden under here. He wondered how anything could live down here, so far from sunlight and the clear blue sky.

Merlin almost ran into Arthur, because he stopped suddenly. He scowled at Merlin, but then pointed around the bend, "He's right this way, and I swear, _Mer_ lin, if this ends poorly I'm blaming you."

"Fine," Merlin agreed, taking the torch right out of Arthur's hand so he could walk in front. "But only if you'll praise me when this ends fine."

Arthur trailed behind, cursing beneath his breath. All Merlin could make out was the word "Idiot", which he took as a compliment.

When they rounded the corner, however, Arthur stopped talking altogether, and Merlin could hardly think. A chain larger than most trees rose up from the rock, and at the end of it was the dragon. He was beyond anything Merlin had ever seen, ever imagined. It would have made a lesser man cower in fear, but instead the sight stirred something in Merlin, something he couldn't quite understand. It felt almost like magic, but just almost. There was something else there, something he'd never felt before facing the dragon, something he didn't have words for but knew anyways, deep down. He just had to understand.

"The Warlock and the Fool," the dragon greeted, coming to land. The wind caused by his beating wings was enough to make Merlin and Arthur stumble backwards. Arthur, Merlin noticed, was keeping his distance, even though the Dragon did not seem frightening. He seemed awful, but in the sense of inspiring awe, not simply terror.

"How… How did you come to be imprisoned here?" Merlin called out. His voice echoed loudly through the cavern, making him sound as large as the dragon.

"Your fathers sought to double cross each other, with me as their pawn. What neither of them knew was that I wished to be imprisoned here, so that this day would come, and I would be here to tell you what it was you must know."

Merlin did not miss what the dragon had said, _your fathers._ He wasn't just talking about King Uther, he was talking about Merlin's father as well. He didn't understand though. How could a dragon know his father? Merlin didn't even know his own father! He'd never even been told the man's name! "You must tell me of my father!"

"That is not my place, young Warlock," the dragon answered, shaking his head much the way a person would. "And you must know that, because of another, your father no longer lives. His story has ended, but yours is just beginning."

Merlin's heart deflated. He'd long suspected that his father was dead. His mother once told him that he would have returned if he could have, and so he had to be dead. To hear it confirmed, however, left Merlin aching. He hadn't wanted to hope, but he had. Now that hope was gone.

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispered, moving into the cavern to place a hand on Merlin's shoulder. Merlin just nodded, closing his eyes. He would not cry over a man he'd never met… at least, not at the moment. Not when there were other things to be spoken of.

"What do you mean, that his story is just beginning? You once told me mine hadn't even begun!" Arthur called at the dragon, clearly having forgotten his fear. The dragon did not attack Arthur, though he did appear scowling.

"It hadn't, but now it has. Your stories are the same. Your stories begin, and end, together. You are the Once and Future King, Arthur, destined to free magic and unite Albion in a Golden Age, but without Merlin, you will be dead by sundown. Yet, while your destiny remains, your future is unclear. I can no longer see whether or not you will fulfill your destiny."

Arthur gritted his teeth, "Because I know magic? Why would my magic prevent me from uniting Albion?"

Merlin thought it was a fair question, but the dragon let out a loud roar, "That is not what I said! Your actions changed the future, and now it is shrouded from me. I no longer can say what you will do, only what you have the potential for. Yet your actions, Prince Arthur, have not lessened Merlin's role in your life, of that I am certain. You are two sides of the same coin, men cut from the same cloth, and you shall always be stronger together."

Merlin didn't like the idea of him and Arthur being bound by the stars of destiny. He'd already decided that he would serve Arthur, that he would help Arthur, if it meant freeing magic, but that had been his choice, hadn't it? How could it be destined that he helped Arthur? He didn't even like Arthur! And yet… yet there was a tugging in the back of Merlin's mind, a question that had to be asked, "Arthur used my magic today, is that part of this?"

The dragon turned his head lightning fast, and brought it down, so he was much closer to Merlin and Arthur than before. He seemed to study them, and then he actually smelled Arthur, breathing in deeply. Arthur squirmed as he did, but then, to their surprise, the Great Dragon laughed, "Of course! I see now. Fate always has a way of righting itself. You do not have Magic, Merlin, you are Magic, the Emrys of prophecy, of far nobler stock than even this prince. You offered up your being to Arthur, and he accepted it, binding your souls. Neither of you shall ever regain your full strength apart. This foolish act has brought you closer to your destiny than ever before."

Merlin's head spun. He _was_ Magic? How? How could that even be possible? "I don't understand!"

"Nor shall you, until all has come to pass, and you look back upon it. Have faith, Young Legends, your path is set. Together Albion will arise, but if you part, all our suffering has been for naught."

"This is absurd," Arthur whispered under his breath, grabbing the torch right from Merlin's hands. "Come on, Merlin; we're leaving. Destiny is nonsense, and trying to fill it will only lead to failure. I don't expect someone like you to know this, but I have been schooled in the literature of the past, and there is only one way stories of destiny end."

Merlin had to admit he wasn't too keen on remaining with the dragon. He didn't seem to have anything useful to say, and Arthur was probably right. Merlin had heard the tales of a bard or two; Destiny was every man's Achilles Heel.

And yet… "Should… shouldn't we free him? If our fathers imprisoned him, he's our responsibility."

Arthur grabbed Merlin's scarf, a deadly look in his eye, "Don't ever suggest that again. I tried freeing him when I first learned magic. He almost burned Camelot to the ground. A good man died to stop him. Perhaps he did not deserve to be imprisoned originally, but he does for what he did then."

Merlin looked back to the dragon, to see his reaction to Arthur's words. He did not seem angry, in fact he seemed properly ashamed, especially when his eyes met Merlin's. Merlin let the subject drop, and followed Arthur from the caverns. He didn't exactly feel like the trip had been worthless, but it hadn't felt particularly advantageous either.

Especially, as Merlin laid aside the thoughts of destiny, because he remembered the one thing the dragon said that made sense- Merlin's father was dead. There was no hope left of meeting him someday. He was gone. He was dead. Merlin's hope had no point except to make accepting the truth now harder.

"Where did he go…" Arthur asked once they returned to the hustle and bustle of the main castle. He was looking for Merlin who was so entrenched in his thoughts he'd fallen behind. Arthur rolled his eyes, stopping for a moment so Merlin could catch up.

"Really, _Mer_ lin, don't be such a girl. There's no use worrying about what that foolish dragon has to say about destiny…" Arthur trailed off, hating himself. He'd forgotten completely about the other thing the dragon said. He felt very stupid. Of course Merlin wasn't upset about his destiny; he was upset about his father.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said again, though now he was not just sympathizing. Now he was actually apologizing for the pain he caused by blundering through life without regard for another. "Do… do you want to talk about him?"

Merlin shook his head, turning away, but Arthur saw the tear in his eye. He didn't quite know what to do. Arthur hadn't let himself cry in years, and if someone else had cried, even Morgana, he simply would have made fun of them. He wasn't about to make fun of Merlin for crying over a dead father, however. He wasn't that cruel.

"I… I never met him," Merlin admitted, rubbing his eye. "I'm a bastard. He left before he even knew my mother was pregnant… He was like me and it was the Purge so he didn't have a choice. He didn't want to."

Arthur was surprised by how fiercely defensive Merlin was of the man he'd never met. Of course Arthur defended his father, though it was hard, but the man had raised him. Arthur wondered if Merlin's words were even true. He'd never say it to the younger man, but he'd heard many stories of men pretending they were wanted just so they could escape the responsibilities of fatherhood. Yet the Dragon had said that their fathers knew each other… Then again, Arthur wouldn't exactly consider the executor and the executed to be familiar. Could their fathers have known each other for a different reason?

It wasn't out of compassion, but cruel curiosity, that Arthur asked, "What was his name? I could check the records find out when… when he died."

Merlin looked up at Arthur, his eyes glossy from the tears, "I… I don't know his first name. My mother wouldn't tell me. I think… his surname may have been Ambrosius. That's what my mother told me mine was, but hers is Meyers."

A bastard technically did not have any right to their father's surname, but Arthur didn't remind Merlin of that. He suspected it would upset the younger man, and Arthur couldn't handle things if Merlin was to start crying more intensely. Selfish as it was, Arthur was grateful that Merlin was pretending not to cry, and Arthur was pretending not to notice him crying. It made things easier.

"I'll ask Geoffrey if he can find me the records… For what it's worth, I'm sorry if my father had yours killed. I will end this when I'm King. Maybe with your help we can save a few sorcerers now. My father is suspicious of me, but he does not yet know you." Merlin seemed to perk up at the prospect, and Arthur sighed in relief. He wasn't very good at this, and he knew it.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Tomorrow morning go to the kitchens and ask for my breakfast, then come to my chambers. We'll make a plan for chores, our study, and my duties." Merlin nodded, walking away.

Arthur smirked and called after him, "Oh and Merlin, don't worry about destiny. I certainly don't need help from a bumbling fool like you."

"Oh course, Your Highness. I am sure you can fight by yourself; it's simply dressing yourself you're incapable of doing," Merlin called back. Arthur was glad to see him smiling, but quickly the smile turned to a grimace. Merlin had been walking backwards, and had knocked right into Morgana. They both fell over, and Merlin landed right on top of Morgana.

Arthur cursed, then went over and pulled Merlin right up. "Apologize to the Lady Morgana, Merlin."

Merlin brushed bright red, "I'm so sorry, My Lady."

Morgana stood back up, brushing her dress off. She looked vaguely frazzled, but she smiled at Merlin. "It's alright- Merlin is it? Are you the unfortunate soul now serving as Arthur's manservant?"

"Yes he is, and he was just leaving," Arthur answered for Merlin, seeing he was a bit tongue-tied. That wasn't an unusual thing around Morgana. Men seemed to constantly lose their minds before her beauty, and yet Arthur couldn't see it. Of course he'd probably marry her some day regardless, but that was another concern.

"Oh don't bully him away on his first day, Arthur, you're really too mean," Morgana chastised, and Arthur rolled his eyes. Of course she wouldn't recognize that he was actually trying to help Merlin; Morgana did always think the worse of him.

Much to Arthur's surprise, however, it was Merlin who spoke up now. "Actually, My Lady, Prince Arthur has been generous enough to give me the night off. I must be going; Gaius will need me. I apologize again for knocking you down," he told her, before bowing, yes bowing, and disappearing down the hall. Arthur wondered where the incorrigible young man he'd met an hour before had gone, if he was to receive a bow now.

"Hmm. There's something queer about that one, I just can't put my finger on what," Morgana pondered, and Arthur hoped she didn't figure it out. He knew Morgana was sympathetic to magic users; she refused to attend executions. He'd still never trusted her with his secret; he certainly would not trust her with Merlin's.

Arthur didn't know quite what to think of Merlin. He was infuriatingly bold, and yet Arthur liked how incorrigible his words were. No one dared speak to him like that, and yet Merlin did. Arthur supposed it was due to the irregularity of their meeting. Gaius had sprung Merlin on Arthur by revealing his secret. Arthur couldn't imagine how frightening it must have been for the young man's new guardian to suddenly tell the Prince of Camelot of his magic. Merlin had looked ready to soil himself, but he hadn't. Instead he'd responded to the situation with wit and a very distinctive sort of charm. It was unlike anything Arthur had encountered before. Morgana was most likely sensing Merlin's magic when she spoke of Merlin being something unique, but it was his personality more than anything that made it so.

Though Arthur largely suspected he'd be sick of Merlin's personality within the week. The dragon had declared that Arthur and Merlin would be together for the rest of their lives, but that sounded ridiculous to Arthur. Arthur could admit (to himself if not to others) that there was much about magic he could learn from Merlin, but he'd get sick of the servant eventually. Besides, you didn't stay a manservant for life. Merlin would move on, things would change. Arthur did not plan on getting attached, which wouldn't be much of a problem. He'd never been attached to anyone in his life, except perhaps his father and Morgana.

Speaking of Morgana… Morgana had continued speaking while Arthur's mind wandered. She drew his attention back then by snapping her fingers in his face. Arthur grabbed her hand before she could continue doing so, "Don't treat me like a child, Morgana, I'm listening to you."

"Hardly," she answered, rolling her emerald eyes. "Or else you would know that your father sent me to find you. You told the Duchess you would find her a potion for her headache over two hours ago. Have you simply gotten lost?"

"No Morgana, I have not gotten lost traveling through the castle where I've lived my entire life. I went to get the potion and met Merlin, who is Gaius's ward. Gaius convinced me to take Merlin on as my new manservant, and so, in showing him his duties, I forgot all about Duchess Morlough. I shall return to Gaius's and retrieve it."

Morgana rolled her eyes, "Oh you mustn't bother, a servant went to fetch it an hour ago. Uther wants to speak to you- about your behavior I imagine. Whatever it is, I pity you immensely."

Arthur shut his eyes, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. He never quite knew how to deal with Morgana when she was in one of these moods, or any mood really. Arthur found Morgana's personality rather trying actually. He simply sighed and said, "Well then, I should cease speaking with you and find him then."

Morgana nodded, and Arthur set out to find his father. This day had not gone the way he'd hoped it had. First, he'd woken up to his chambers being absolutely freezing, and decided that a simple fire could do no harm. Yet Morris had to go asking questions, servants and their questions, and so Arthur had to fire him. That meant Arthur had to dress himself and bring his own armor down to training. He'd taken his frustration out on his men, except he'd been reckless, and now there were a number of bruises forming along his body that left him sore. Duchess Morlough's arrival had surprised them all, but then he'd offered, chivalrously, to retrieve a potion for the poor widow, only to meet Merlin. Merlin seemed to already be making a mess of Arthur's life, though if he truly could clean Arthur's chambers in only a few minutes, it would be worth it.

Yet Arthur didn't like having gone to see the dragon. It reminded Arthur of his first encounter with the dragon, and the terrible events that followed. Then there was the dragon's riddles and prophecies and revealing to Merlin, with no subtlety, that his father was dead… it was all too much. Arthur didn't have the energy to find out what it was his father wanted, because surely it wouldn't be good. Unfortunately, such was the life of a prince, and he simply had no choice.

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AN:  
I'm sure you can tell by now that I'm changing the dynamics of some of the relationships. I like to think I'm keeping true to character, but with the situation different, they interact differently. Let me know what you think.

A few questions that I would love if anyone had an opinion on

1- At some point I'm going to do the classic 'save the magical child' -Do you want it to be Mordred or another kid?

2- Are there any ships you want to (or don't want to) see. I won't do Merthur, but besides that I'm pretty open. Traditionally I write Mergana, but I'm not entirely feeling that with this story, so I could easily be persuaded to do it, or not to do it. Arwen will probably come in, unless someone convinces me it shouldn't. Thoughts?

3- I've said before that I am writing my own 'episodes'. Do you have any characters or plot lines from canon that you just HAVE to see in this?

The other thing I felt like I should explain is my decision to go to regular updates. I often find when I write that I write frantically, and end up getting burnt out. I rush to finish stories so I can move onto another project. I don't want to do that with this. I would rather write this properly. That being said, I have other projects I must work on, so my solution is saying I am only allowed to write one chapter of this a week (I'll probably write it on Sunday or Monday). If I do get very backed up and can't post some Monday, I promise I'll post on Tuesday, even if it means staying up all night. I hope this is agreeable for you. It will be a good test of self-control for me, and I think it will make the story better. That being said, this story is going to be LONG. I have plots for sixteen 'episodes', and will probably come up with more. Considering each episode will probably be 3-5 chapters long, and each chapter 4000 words... we're talking I could go on writing this story for years. All I can promise is that, if I do get bored and decide to end it, I'll still take the time to end it properly. I have the ending done. It's simply how many in-universe years, how many adventures, that we get to see before then. The more we see, the better I feel like that will make this. After all, five seasons feels short, but it's really not. So, patience will be the motto for both writing and reading, and we'll see how this goes. I really hope people stick around reading and enjoying. The only reason I'd stop writing would be if people stopped reading.


	4. The Dragons of Camelot IV-Bonds

o friends, welcome to the Monday updates. This chapter is longer than most will be, but and as this is the end of the first 'Episode I' so it was one long chapter or two short ones. I figured I might as well let it be long. Additionally, the show gives very little history of Camelot, so I had to make up my own to fill in a couple plot holes. I hope you enjoy what I've come up with! See you next Monday!

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Chapter 4- Bonds

Merlin didn't want to think about his father, or any of the things the dragon had said, but it was very hard not to. He didn't have anything else to think about, and the words just seemed to run on a loop through his mind. It was so bad that Merlin felt a bit dazed when he got back to Gaius's chambers (which he supposed included his chambers now, though in all the chaos he'd neither unpacked or spoken much to his great-uncle).

Gaius perked up when Merlin walked in, looking up from the book he was reading, "There you are. Did Prince Arthur set you to chores already?"

Merlin almost laughed, and cried. It seemed odd to him that so many strange things could happen to him and yet no one would ever know it. No one could ever know it, though he supposed he could tell Gaius. The man did know of Merlin's magic, and while he shouldn't have told Arthur, it seemed like destiny had desired it. "Yes, but there was more than that. Did you know there was a dragon beneath the castle?"

Gaius furrowed his bushy brows, but nodded slowly, "His name is Kilgharrah, and he is nothing but trouble. You mustn't listen to what he says, Merlin. Did Prince Arthur truly bring you _there_? I thought he'd learned his lesson. It seems I was wrong."

Merlin considered asking more about Arthur's first encounter with the dragon. It seemed like an unpleasant story, but important nonetheless. Yet there were too many other things for Merlin to ask about for him to consider it worth it. The past could wait for another time; Merlin was concerned about the future. "He told me Arthur is destined to free magic, but that I have to help him do it. I don't know what use I'm going to be though. Arthur is trained in both sword fighting and magic. I know neither!"

"Merlin, Kilgharrah wants trouble, and he's not against using you to bring it. He was the one who convinced Uther to conquer Camelot, claiming it was destined. Twenty years of persecution and terror seem hardly like a destiny that should be striven for. Arthur has planned for years to free magic, and some day he will- with or without you. Be Arthur's servant, and a friend if he'll let you, that boy needs a friend, but keep your head down, or it will be chopped right off."

Merlin hadn't liked the dragon's talk of destiny, and yet, somehow, Gaius's practical advice seemed to crush the life within Merlin. Still, he knew it was wise to do what the man said. He could serve Arthur, help where he could, and learn a few spells, but nothing more. The destiny of a great kingdom was too much for the shoulders of a young boy named Merlin. He knew this, in his head, and yet his magic seemed to tickle the back of his neck, asking- _do you really believe that?_

"Do you know… well do you know if he told my father he had a destiny?" Merlin found himself asking. Gaius had raised his mother, after all, so he had to have an idea of Merlin's parentage. He had to at least have a better grasp on the man than Merlin did.

Gaius clearly did, as he looked panicked, whipping around to stare at Merlin. "Did he tell you what happened to your father?"

"He told me he was dead. Gaius, please, can you tell me what happened? I've never understood, and if he's dead, there is no harm in knowing."

Gaius sighed, sitting down. Merlin joined him, waiting as patiently as he could. Gaius was slow to speak, but finally did, "His name was Balinor Ambrosius, and he was a lord, of sorts. I don't know how familiar with history you are, but Uther's uncle, Vortigern, ruled in those days. He was supposed to only be regent until Uther came of age, but he had no intentions of relinquishing the throne. The only reason he did not outright kill Uther was because he had no heirs, and did not care who was King after his death. He kept Uther far from Camelot, however, as a ward of your grandfather, Lord Draco. Your father and Uther grew up as brothers, and were nearly inseparable. But King Vortigern began to descend into madness, and he ordered your grandfather, who had a powerful type of magic, to do something unspeakable. When Lord Draco refused, Vortigern had him killed. Uther and Balinor decided they could not simply wait for Vortigern to die. There was a great civil war, and in the end, with your father's help, Uther won. Then Queen Ygraine died, and Uther blamed magic. I honestly believe Uther would have permitted your father to continue practicing magic, but Balinor would not stand for such hypocrisy. They fought, and your father fled, beginning an underground resistance movement. He knew your mother distantly, as she moved to Ealdor shortly after Uther conquered Camelot, and together they smuggled sorcerers from Camelot to Essetir. Eventually, Uther betrayed Balinor a final time, and your father was forced to smuggle himself. You were conceived then, but before your mother knew of the pregnancy, Uther found him, and Balinor fled Ealdor. He hid for a number of years, staying away from your mother to protect her I imagine, but eventually he was found and killed. I wrote to your mother. I do not know why she never told you."

Merlin didn't know either. He supposed he'd always led his mother to believe he didn't care about his father, that she was the only parent he'd ever needed. It wasn't true though. Merlin had needed a father, but he hadn't gotten one- because of Uther.

Anger burned in Merlin's heart. It was so unfair. Gaius made it sound like Uther only had a kingdom because of his father, but his father was dead, and Uther sat on the throne. Magic won Uther Camelot, and then he destroyed it. It was all wrong. It was so wrong. For a split-second Merlin honestly considered killing Uther and letting Arthur be King. Perhaps Arthur was a bit arrogant, and certainly annoying, but he'd be a better King than Uther. Merlin suspected he'd be a better King than Uther.

Yet, as the thought came, so it left. Merlin didn't really mean it after all. Camelot was the richest country in Albion, possibly the world. Even the poorest citizen found surplus food, and, so long as you weren't magical, life was good in Camelot. It seemed a cruel conundrum, that for one group of people life could be so terrible, while the vast majority thrived. There was no guarantee Arthur could continue to run Camelot so well, actually, the Prince didn't seem nearly mature enough to do so. Killing Uther would not only devastate Arthur, it could very well tear the country apart. Besides, Merlin wasn't a killer. He just wasn't.

So, Merlin's anger dissipated into sadness, and then he let it go. Merlin didn't like wallowing in negative emotions. He could not change things. Like Gaius said, he didn't really have some great destiny. All Merlin could do was keep his head down, and do his chores. He really was grateful, actually. At least he had magic to do his chores; few others had that blessing.

"Merlin, if Arthur has given you the night off, perhaps you could run some errands for me. This is a potion for the King's ward, Lady Morgana. If you could bring it to her chambers, I'd greatly appreciate it."

Merlin blushed, thinking of the beautiful lady he'd knocked over. He hoped she wasn't in her chambers. Perhaps, then, she'd have forgotten all about the incident by the time they met again.

Merlin didn't have the sense to actually ask Gaius where Lady Morgana's chambers were. Instead he took the potion, then found himself wandering about the Citadel. Eventually he realized that her chambers were most likely near Arthur's, if she was Uther's ward, and so he returned to that part of the castle. Still, there were dozens of chambers in the area, and Merlin really did not wish to accidentally knock on the wrong door.

He decided to ask directions from a serving girl who'd rounded the corner. She had dark skin, and beautiful brown curls. What impressed Merlin the most about her was that she seemed to be humming a tune to herself, and walking with a bright step. So many of the servants he saw looked sullen and downtrodden, but this young woman seemed quite lovely.

"Excuse me, Miss," Merlin asked, coming up to her, a goofy grin on his face. (Not that he tried to have a goofy grin. It was simply his face.) The girl stopped, smiling at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Merlin imagined she wasn't called 'Miss' very often, but he didn't know her name, and he couldn't just call her 'you there'.

"Sorry to bother you, um, but Gaius sent me to bring Lady Morgana a potion for her headache, and I don't know where her chambers are. Do you know?"

The woman smiled brightly, "Of course, I'm Lady Morgana's maid. I could take it, if you'd like. I'm Gwen by the way, well, Guinevere, but everyone calls me Gwen."

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, glad for his luck. If he handed off the potion, he wouldn't have to see the Lady again. (It didn't even cross his mind that, perhaps, he shouldn't just trust that she was actually who she said she was. Merlin, for better or for worse, was used to living in a place where everyone knew everybody, and so there was not much point in lying. Lies, for him, were reserved solely for magic.)

"Could you? I'd appreciate it greatly. I'm Merlin, by the way."

Gwen bit her upper lip, and seemed to be holding back a giggle. It made Merlin very paranoid. Had Lady Morgana already told Gwen about the awkward boy who practically assaulted her? Merlin felt his face flushing a deep shade of red, but he gathered the courage to ask, "What is it?"

Gwen flushed red now too, clearly embarrassed that he'd noticed her amusement. "Oh… um… I'm sorry. I didn't mean… well it's simply that you're Prince Arthur's new manservant, right? Everyone is talking about you. The Prince seems to have a new manservant every day. When the kitchen staff heard a rumor that you'd knocked Lady Morgana down and not been fired on the spot, well we were all very curious. I actually think there is a betting pool going, for how long you'll last. Not that I think you'll be fired, of course. I'm sure you're a talented servant but…"

Gwen probably would have continued prattling, but Merlin laughed, and cut her off. "Actually, I've never been a servant in my life, but I'll tell you a secret, Gwen- Arthur isn't going to fire me." Gwen looked doubtful, and Merlin didn't blame her. It probably sounded ridiculous, and arrogant. Still, he knew it would be true. He would have to do something terribly wrong to get fired; Arthur was too exited by the prospect of having a servant who wouldn't notice his magic.

"No, really, you should bet on it," Merlin told Gwen. She seemed nice enough, and a servant could always use the money. Actually, Merlin was getting a great idea. "I'll prove it too. Take this coin and bet the farthest out it goes. Then, when I haven't been fired, we'll split the pot."

The girl shook her head instantly, "Oh no, that's a terribly idea. The bet goes out a whole year, and no one has ever lasted that long as Prince Arthur's servant. Even if he doesn't fire you, you'll want to quit within the year- the Prince is quite arrogant and demanding."

Merlin still pulled out the gold coin, the only one he had, and pressed it in her hands. "I'm not going to quit, and Arthur won't fire me. Bet that I'll last the whole year, and next year we'll both be rich enough to quit our jobs and do something better.

She still refused to accept it, "Even if you did win, why would you split the pot with me? It's your coin."

"Well I can't exactly place the bet in my own name. It's probably cheating to do so, and I don't want everyone to think I'm as arrogant as Arthur… Prince Arthur. Besides, you're doing all the work; I found that coin next to a wishing well. Really it would be fairer if I gave you three-fourth of the pot, considering I'm asking you to walk all the way down to the kitchens."

Gwen giggled, but finally accepted the coin, "Very well, Merlin, I'll make your bet, but we're splitting the pot in half. You must know though that I won't want you to stay in the position if you're miserable. It won't be worth the money, I promise you."

Merlin wondered how exactly Arthur had been getting rid of all the servants who'd gotten to close to discovering his magic. Clearly, he hadn't gone about it with much tact. Then again, Merlin had met the Prince; he didn't have any tact at all.

"Thank you, Gwen, and it won't be a problem. Actually, I think Prince Arthur and I have an understanding. I cleaned his room faster than any servant before, you know. I think he's a bit in awe of me," Merlin said.

Gwen laughed, shaking her head. Merlin imagined she thought he was completely insane, but he was glad to have amused her. "There's something about you Merlin. I can't help feeling like you're very special... Well, I'll bring your potion to Morgana and your coin to the kitchen. I suppose I'll see you tonight, at the feast?"

Arthur had given him the night off, but Merlin was excited by the prospect of Gwen looking forward to seeing him again. He wasn't thinking about the fact that she was a girl (well, he was, but only a little). Mostly he was simply excited at the prospect of having made a friend in Camelot. Plus, she was servant to the King's ward, and he was servant to the King's son, so they'd be working together a lot. It would be a lot more fun going forward if they could be friends.

So Merlin put himself back in duty, "Of course, I'll see you then Gwen. In the meantime, start daydreaming about the duchy you'll be able to buy in a year once we're rich."

Gwen laughed wildly as she walked away, and Merlin watched her go. Once she was completely out of sight he turned to head back to Gaius's chambers. He hadn't gone far, however, before he heard the voices of Arthur and another man coming down the hall. Not wanting to be seen and have Arthur give him any more pitying looks, Merlin ducked behind a pillar, letting them pass. Their voices floated by as they did. He heard the other man, who he decided had to be King Uther, chastise, "This is not the first time you have shirked your duties, and it's simply unacceptable."

"Father, I have already apologized to the Duchess. It was a terrible misjudgment, but I needed a new servant and Gaius's ward was right there," Arthur told his father, wondering why they were still going on about the same thing. He had honestly been wrong to get so distracted while the Duchess was in pain, but he couldn't help it. It was all Merlin's fault really, and the dragon's. How could he not find himself distracted by the thoughts of magical servants and destinies? Of course he couldn't tell his father that, so he simply seemed like an idiot trying to defend himself. Still, his father could give him a break and let it go. Arthur was his only son, after all. Was that worth nothing?

Apparently, because his father donned an indignant look, the one best described as 'I am the King, and don't you forget it'. "That is your fault, Arthur. Honestly I know servants can be dreadful, but you must learn to simply ignore them. You're no longer a child; in only a few months you will be the Crown Prince. It is time for you to focus on your duties and let the servants focus on theirs… You there, what are you doing spying on us?"

It took Arthur a moment to realize who his father was even speaking to, but when he did, Arthur had to laugh at the painful irony. For all his talk of ignoring servants, King Uther's attention was now focused on one. Unfortunately, Arthur did not want his father noticing this particular servant, for the scrawny creature trying to hide from them was none other than a tongue-tied Merlin.

"You have no place here, boy. Explain yourself or I'll have you thrown in the stocks."

Merlin's blue eyes flashed desperately to Arthur, who sighed. _And the Dragon thinks Merlin is supposed to protect me_ , Arthur thought with a laugh. "Let him be Father. This is Merlin, my new manservant. Gaius probably sent him with Morgana's potion."

Merlin nodded, bowing to Uther. Arthur wondered why Merlin hadn't yet bowed to him. It was funny, actually, how petrified the young man was before Uther considering how bold he was before Arthur. Then again, Arthur knew Merlin had probably grown up hearing stories of how Uther wished to kill him. Arthur couldn't exactly blame his servant for being weary.

Uther sighed, shaking his head, "Very well then, boy, get back to your duties, and I don't want to catch you eavesdropping again."

Merlin scurried off, and Arthur noticed a strange look pass over his father's eye. For a second, the Prince's heart clenched. Was his father somehow sensing Merlin's magic? Surely that wasn't possible, or Arthur himself would have been long dead. If magic could be felt by the nonmagical, then Uther's Purge would have actually succeeded.

Sure enough, it must have been nothing, because his Father began strutting once more, leaving Arthur to follow behind. "There is something else we must discuss, and it regards your maturity as well," Uther told him, and Arthur prayed desperately that his marriage wouldn't be brought up again. Half the marriages his father proposed made no sense at all politically. If his father proposed he married the Duchess, who was twice his age and likely barren, Arthur thought he might actually scream.

Luckily, in one sense (and terribly unfortunately in another), that was not what Uther wanted to discuss. Instead he said in a low voice, "The Duchess informed me today of a rumor that there is, within Court, a sorcerer. Apparently she, and many of the Noble Houses, feel that many of the magical threats we have faced in recent years have been conquered by equally magical means. I assured her that it was simply the might of our knights, to save her womanly worry, but I do believe she may be correct. A sorcerer has infiltrated Camelot and is fighting the many sorcerers who would see us cut down."

"But if they are helping us, what could possible be wrong…" Arthur hadn't taken even a moment before speaking. He wanted to defend magic desperately, but of course he couldn't. His father had to believe that Arthur hated magic, or Arthur would find himself in chains. Besides, it was not wise for him to defend the sorcerer, considering he was the sorcerer who'd been protecting them, with varying degrees of success, with the few spells he knew. The ability to light a fire with a word always worked as a useful distraction so he had time to draw his sword and dispatch of his would-be-assassins.

"Of course, it would be a ploy to gain our trust so that they could better destroy us. I understand, Father," Arthur quickly corrected, bowing his head. He could still see his father carefully appraising him, looking for signs of deceit, but Arthur had become quite talented at lying since he'd begun exploring magic. Eventually his father nodded, content that Arthur's foolishness did not extend to a sympathy for magic.

"We must be quiet in our inquiry or else the sorcerer may run, but everyone in the Citadel is under suspicion. I believe it may even be a knight, in which case I do hope we can end them discreetly. Since the death of Lord Balinor, there have been none among the nobility foolish enough to dally with something as dreadful as magic."

Arthur gulped at the mention of Lord Balinor. It seemed painfully coincidental that his father would mention the dead Dragonlord the same day the Great Dragon spoke to Arthur once more. If his father noticed Arthur's disquietude, however, he chalked it up to Arthur's distaste for magic, and did not comment.

"You dealt with Lord Balinor, and we shall deal with this. Simply keep your eyes open and report anything suspicious to me. I must be going, Arthur. I trust I shall see you at dinner. You would not insult the Duchess by forgetting her once more."

"Of course not, Father. I will even escort her to dinner if it would please you." Uther nodded, and then headed on his way. Arthur watched him go, before shaking his head. The day had been far too complicated for him to truly worry about offending the widowed Duchess. Besides, Arthur, like everyone, knew she was in an impossibly joyous mood all the time since her husband's death. Considering some of the matches his father had proposed for him, Arthur couldn't blame her. Her husband had been fifty at the time they wed, and she'd been Arthur's age. By all accounts there was no way of knowing whether or not she was truly barren; her husband had been too impotent to test it. Now he was dead, and she was free… _Just like I shall be when my father dies._

Sometimes, Arthur did not like the thoughts in his mind.

* * *

Arthur did escort the Duchess down to dinner, and then found himself seated beside her during the meal. He hardly noticed her, however. She was not being the boisterous woman she'd been the past few days she'd spent in Camelot. She seemed to be eyeing everyone at the dinner- the highest Lords of Camelot- with disgust. Arthur tried to chock it up to her simply still feeling unwell, because of which he said, "Your Grace, I wish to apologize once more for the delay earlier today with your potion. My actions were inexcusable, and I beg your pardon."

The Duchess turned to Arthur, and then smiled, her perfect teeth almost sparkling. Somehow the smile didn't feel very warm, however. "Oh I was not surprised. I may now be the Duchess of Morlough, but that shall only be until the King finds another entirely despicable man for me to marry. Are you aware, Prince Arthur, that my late husband would not permit me to leave our manor even for a trip to court? Ha! He claimed to fear for me, you know, but mostly I think he feared I would run off."

Arthur shifted in his seat, and let his eyes fall to his meal. He did not know why the Duchess was telling him this. Selfish as it was, he'd rather she didn't. Yet she continued.

"Of course I only had to marry him because the King killed the _real_ Duke of Morlough for consorting with dragons. It was Edgar that I spent my childhood believing I would marry- desiring to marry. I thought I was so lucky, to love my betrothed… do you think you are lucky, Prince Arthur?"

"Yes, Your Grace, I do think I have been very lucky. I am deeply sorry for the pain my father's actions must have caused you," Arthur replied, reaching for his goblet. His mouth was suddenly feeling very dry, and he needed a long drink. He also felt inclined towards the dull mum he'd feel if he was to drink the whole glass quickly enough.

The Duchess watched him guzzle the wine, raising an eyebrow. Arthur had to admit, that for her age, she was beautiful. Her hair was a delicate honey, and her eyes crisply blue. Yet there was something undeniably cold about her now as she spoke, a far cry from the carefree laughter he'd heard from her the past few nights.

"Today should have been our twentieth anniversary," she finally explained, giving Arthur the answer to why now, of all nights, she'd let go of her mask. It also made him feel uneasy however. His well-honed instincts had his hand inching towards his dinner knife, as he hadn't brought his sword to dinner for obvious reasons.

"Your Grace," Arthur told her, trying to keep his voice steady and calm. His day had already been a mess of complications, so it seemed absurd that another could occur, but his instincts were rarely wrong. "I understand your anger, but there is no need to be rash. I am sympathetic to your pain but we must all restrain our rashest desires."

The Duchess nodded, smiling upon Arthur. In his stupidity, he removed his hand from the knife. Once she saw that, she said, "You're entirely right, we must restrain the rash- Bcynnette Sál." Before he could react the ropes which held back some curtains had snaked over to Arthur, and wrapped him tightly to the chair. No one even had time to notice, because the Duchess quickly continued, "Forbaerne! Forbaerne! Forbaerne Aeswican!"

Fires erupted all over the dining hall- on plates, from the table clothes, even in one woman's wig. Soon enough everything was on fire, and thick smoke made it nearly impossible to see. Everyone screamed and dashed from the hall, trampling each other as they did. Arthur struggled against his bonds, but he only succeeded in knocking his chair over, so that he was further hidden from anyone who may come to his aid. Arthur began coughing, the smoke burning his throat. He cursed himself for his sheer stupidity. He had learned the spell to start fires, but not any with which they could be put out.

One of the ropes had wrapped itself around Arthur's mouth, so he couldn't scream. He couldn't even cough properly and get the smoke from his lungs. He felt the world around him dimming, and then he couldn't breathe at all. Arthur gasped for air and found nothing. Yet, as unpleasant as the complete lack of air was, Arthur saw all the fires go out instantly. A second later, and he could breathe again, normally, though his lungs burned still from the smoke he'd inhaled.

A red and brown blur came running towards him. Arthur's mind was fuzzy from lack of oxygen, but he blinked and realized the blur was actually Merlin. What was he doing there? Arthur had given him the night off.

Merlin, of course, had come to the feast to spend more time with Gwen. They'd ended up whispering to each other throughout the feast, filling wine goblets whenever they emptied, but truly being a bit carefree. It was only when the fires started that their companionship ended. Merlin helped her flee before realizing he didn't see Arthur in the foyer where the desperate lords and ladies had gathered. Remembering the dragon's prophecy, he'd returned to the hall to save the stupid Prince. The fires, however, had been too thick for Merlin to see, and so he'd simply thought about them going out. They had, and now as he unbound Arthur, it seemed, they would all be alright. (Merlin could not help but feel smug; he'd saved the Prince of Camelot himself.)

"Merlin," Arthur began, and Merlin was expecting the Prince to thank him. Arthur, however, did not. No, instead the Prince said, "Merlin did you _remove all the air from the room_ just to put the fire out? You truly are a complete idiot!"

Merlin rolled his eyes. Perhaps he should have let the Prince get a bit crispier before saving him. (Though, to be honest, Merlin hadn't intended to do much of anything. He'd just desired the fire to go out, and it had… when all the air in the room disappeared for a moment. Still, it had worked. "Yes, well, at least I did something. You did nothing at all- how did you come to be tied up, actually?"

Arthur's eyes opened wide, and he ran from the dining hall. Merlin followed after him, struggling far more than the Prince at jumping over the half-ash tables and chairs blocking the path. He muttered under his breath as he ran after Arthur, "Stupid Prince, doesn't even say thank you. I only saved his life. It's only my destiny to do so, after all, so of course he doesn't need to say 'thank you'."

Merlin felt sorry for himself, but all his pitying disappeared when he finally made it out into the foyer and saw the chaos there. Dozens of people- lords, ladies, servants- stood or sat crying, coughing, and screaming. Many of them had blistering burns, on their hands, arms, or even, in one case, the face. Those who'd escaped burns were coughing from the smoke. The fire had come with such force that no one was prepared. Merlin certainly hadn't been.

Gaius had arrived, and was treating those he could. Merlin went to help him, but then heard a different kind of shouting. He turned to find Arthur standing with a bloody gash along his arm on top of the Duchess, dead by the looks of her. The King too was bleeding, quite heavily, from a blow to the head. Merlin rushed over, ripping off his neckerchief. Merlin told the King, "Your Majesty, you must sit down, or you will pass out."

The King looked aghast at the lowly servant ordering him around, but then he raised his hand to his head, feeling the sticky blood. He looked significantly paler then, and did as Merlin ordered. Merlin held his neckerchief to the bleeding wound, and spotted Gwen nearby. She looked terrified, but unharmed, so Merlin called out to her, "Find me some water."

Gwen didn't hesitate to do what he said, running off. Arthur came over then, looking desperately at the quickly soaking neckerchief. He knelt next to his father, and Merlin pretended to be too busy tending to the King to see the tear in Arthur's eye. "I'm sorry, Father, that I was not faster. I should have known she was a witch."

Uther reached out, touching Arthur's cheek gently, "It is alright, my son, I shall be alright. There is use, it seems, in a manservant who is the physician's ward. What was your name again boy?"

Merlin did not get a chance to reply, because Gwen came running back, water and bandages in hand. Merlin removed his soiled neckerchief, dipped one of the bandages in the water, and began carefully cleaning the wound. Whatever the Duchess had hit the King with seemed to have not done much damage; it was simply the excess of blood that made it look frightening. Still Merlin washed it carefully, reapplying the bandages. He realized, after a second, that he was saving the life of a man who'd see him killed in an instant. Earlier in the day Merlin had actually considered killing Uther. He decided he liked this better.

Since Merlin was so busy, Arthur answered for his servant, "His name… Merlin."


	5. The Otherworld I- Changeling

Happy Monday! Sorry this chapter is kind of short and rough; I have the flu. I just wanted to write something to get us started with Episode II- The Otherworld. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Five-The Changeling

Arthur suspected that he was in for something interesting when Baron Worthington asked to speak to his father alone. The Baron, Baroness, and their infant hellion had arrived in Camelot without any warning, but of course they were welcome. (Technically every Lord of Camelot was welcome at Court at any time.)

Still, the infant Lord Derlek was too young to travel so far without good reason, and now the Baron wished a private audience. Usually a lower lord such as Baron Worthington wanted everyone to see him speaking to the King. If he wanted no one to know, then something was wrong. King Uther granted the request nevertheless, and so, that night, it was just Uther, Arthur, and, of course, Merlin, in the King's Chambers when Baron Worthington and his family arrived.

As the Baron entered, the babe in his arms, Arthur cast a look to where his servant was standing. Merlin had essentially become his shadow over the past few weeks, to the point that no one from Camelot even noticed him. Arthur without Merlin nearby would have looked odd to the citizens of Camelot, and been worth noting. Merlin included in a private meeting, standing in the shadows, ever watchful, was nothing out of the ordinary at all. Uther certainly hadn't commented when Merlin entered with Arthur.

Arthur didn't exactly know how he felt like that, except, of course, he did. Arthur liked it. Arthur liked Merlin. He enjoyed having the younger man around. Merlin was quick to joke, and yet knew how to be serious when needed. He did all of his chores, with a spell of course, and Arthur had doubled the number of spells he knew now that he had Merlin to translate the grimoire for him. Merlin had also found another three occasions (though Merlin insisted it was five) on which to save Arthur's life. He was certainly handy to have around. Arthur liked having him around.

Arthur didn't like liking Merlin. He wished desperately he could just be rid of Merlin, because he was infuriating. He had no respect for Arthur's position, or much of anything at all. He didn't know how to shut up. He blundered around the training field injuring knights accidentally. (Lord knows he could never land a blow intentionally). Merlin also tended to blow more things up with magic than humanly possible. Each time he'd saved Arthur's life, Arthur had almost died because of the convoluted way in which Merlin tried to save him.

Arthur rubbed the back of his head, feeling the waning bump. Considering Merlin could stop time, which seemed to Arthur like the best solution in any situation, they certainly had a number of close calls. The most recent had been only a few days before, when a rogue sorcerer threw a knife at Arthur and Merlin had knocked Arthur to the ground. He hadn't even used magic at all, simply pushing the Prince. Arthur had hit his head hard against the stone; he was lucky to have not cracked his skull. Worst of all, Merlin had insisted Arthur thank him. (Why would Arthur thank Merlin for almost killing him to save him from being killed? Honestly, the man was a fool.)

Still, he was a fool, but he was Arthur's fool. The castle was abuzz with rumors about how Merlin had lasted so long as Arthur's servant. Some of the rumors, (which Arthur hoped Merlin did not know about), were simply crude, but most people simply stated that Arthur couldn't help but like Merlin. No one could help but like Merlin. He'd taken the entirety of Camelot by storm. Everyone was asking about the 'special young man' that was Arthur's servant. (And none of them had a clue how special Merlin was.)

It all drove Arthur nuts, but he wouldn't change a thing. After all, it did come in handy. As soon as Baron and Baroness Worthington, along with their son, entered the room, Arthur saw Merlin's blue eyes go wide. The boy tried to word something, but he was terrible at it, as Arthur couldn't read his lips. It was enough to put him on edge, however. Arthur had learned to trust Merlin's instincts. They were, more often than not, right.

Arthur could not think too much about it, however, because his pained head began to hurt more. The infant was screeching wildly in his father's arms. He wasn't acting much like an infant either. He seemed to be sitting up by himself, and had thicker and hairier arms than a baby should. His teeth also appeared larger than baby teeth did, or so Arthur supposed. He tried to remember that he didn't know much about babies, and put the thoughts from his mind. So the young lord was ugly; that wasn't strange.

What was strange, and drew Arthur's attention even more than the child's horrendous behavior, was the dazed look in Baroness Worthington's eyes. Arthur had never met her before, so he supposed it was possible that she looked like that normally. He doubted it, however. If he ever said so before Morgana, she'd never let him forget it, but Arthur was aware that most women had something in their heads. They did not normally look so dreamy and distant as Baroness Worthington did.

The Baroness stumbled, and Arthur moved quickly to grab her. She smiled up at him, but in an odd way that made Arthur's stomach churn. He quickly righted her… only for her to fall back over at the waist. Arthur looked desperately to his father, and then Merlin, for an explanation. Merlin was holding two of his fingers a few inches apart and pretending to drink something. Arthur took his best guess at what that might mean, saying to the Baron, "My Lord, is your wife drunk?"

Baron Worthington, a portly man if not particularly old, blushed bright red, "No, no of course not Your Highness. I apologize greatly for her behavior… see that's what I wanted to see Your Majesty about. I'm sorry to say that my wife… well she no longer seems to be right in the head. She attacked Derlek! A few days after he was born, I wake up to screaming coming from the nursery. She's howling that someone took our son and left a faerie in return, can you believe it? I had servants put her back to bed, had our physician give her a calming draught, but then I caught her with a knife trying to kill him! Your Majesty, you must condemn her. She's going to kill my son, my heir!"

Arthur cringed a bit when Baron Worthington said his father 'must' condemn her. Certainly the Baroness sounded out of her mind, but his father never took well to being told what he 'must' do. Arthur could even see his father scowling, though he was trying to hide it for the sake of an old friendship. "My Lord, your wife is of noble birth. Only treason and witchcraft are capital offenses for gentle ladies such as herself. I'm sure you can manage your own wife and child…"

Uther stopped talking when the boy in question began clawing at Baron Worthington's face. His little nails shouldn't have been able to do much damage at all, but blood began dripping from the cuts. Baron Worthington was so surprised he simply dropped the child. When he landed on the ground he did not stop. Instead he stood up, stood up at two months old, and barreled towards Arthur screeching louder than the most terrible vulture. Arthur was too surprised to react.

Merlin was not. He jumped on the baby (if it could truly be called that), pining its arms behind him. Arthur noticed Merlin's eyes turn the lightest shade of gold, and looked up panicked to see if anyone else had noticed. They did not appear too. They were simply too grateful that the baby, which was now foaming at the mouth and kicking Merlin, was more-or-less restrained.

Uther turned to Baron Worthington, who looked like he was going to be sick, and bleeding from various deep scratches. Before the King could say anything, however, Baroness Worthington smiled, "S'not my son. That's a changeling. A changeling I tell you."

Uther's fury now turned to the child. Merlin was still gripping him tight, and he'd stopped fighting. He continued to foam at the mouth, however, so Uther did not get too close. He studied the child from a distance, as did Arthur. Arthur had never believed stories of changelings, but he supposed he hadn't believed stories of people born with magic, or destinies, or dragons. Things do not simply stop being real when you stop believing in them.

Arthur was fairly certain that was not a child. He'd had Merlin dig out the birth announcement when the Baron arrived, and the real child was supposed to be three months old. It should not have been so vicious or dangerous. Most likely, the child was a changeling, or something magical.

That, however, left the question of what to do with it. Arthur was not sure where faeries fell on the magical radar. Were they inherently evil? His father surely thought so, as they were magical beings, but so was Merlin. (Arthur wasn't a magical being, he simply did magic, as Merlin, with a grin, always reminded him). Still, magic did not equate evil, and the child being vicious was not necessarily his fault. If he was a faerie child forced into a strange human world he probably would seem vicious. Arthur suspected a human child seemed vicious and strange to faeries. (Human children certainly seemed vicious and strange to him).

"Throw the baby into the fire, boy, and let us be done with this demon," Uther finally ordered, and Arthur's heart stopped. He could not believe his father was ordering Merlin to simply kill the baby without a second thought. He also could not believe the Baron and Baroness were simply standing there, saying nothing. What if it was their child? Didn't they care one bit? Shouldn't more thought go into the matter?

Arthur was about to say so, but he didn't get a chance. Merlin had already taken it upon himself to speak up, the fool. "No, Your Majesty. I can't. Please, Sire, there are tests Gaius can do! He can… he can confirm if it is truly a changeling. If it is then we have to do things to get the real Lord Derlek back!"

A slap cracked across Merlin's cheek, but he did not flinch. Arthur felt his hand fly to his sword, but he had the sense to remain calm. His father's ire was bad enough without escalating the situation. (Though Arthur was fully prepared to fight his father, if he touched Merlin again.)

Uther looked ready to, but finally he stepped away, going to sit down. "Very well, boy, take it to Gaius. Arthur- go with him to ensure the creature is proper disposed of. It would be good for Lord Derlek to be returned from the evil clutches of magic."

Arthur let out a deep breath, and nodded. Be placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder, steering him from the room without getting to close to the rabid child. They did not truly escape, however. Uther spoke up once more, with the words Arthur had expected the first time, "And don't you ever, boy, say no to me again. I am your King!"

Merlin turned around, bowing deeply. The baby started screeching again at the movement, and then Uther flicked his wrist sending them off.

Once they were out of the room, Merlin let out the breath he'd been holding in. He cursed himself for having been so blunt with the King, but what else was he supposed to say? He wasn't about to kill a baby- human or faerie, good or evil. It was still a baby; Merlin would not harm it.

He would, however, use a spell to silence it. It was one he'd picked up without Arthur's knowledge, hoping to someday use it on the Prince when he was being insufferable. It was worth exposing now, however, to shut the thing up. "Ádumbe", he whispered to the being, and then, while its mouth opened, no noise came out.

The baby instead reached up at Merlin's eyes, a smile on its face. It actually looked a little cute like that. Yet as the gold faded, the baby's lip started to quiver. Merlin almost cast another spell just to please the child, but Arthur must have read his mind, because he smacked Merlin's head.

"Stop trying to get yourself killed!" Arthur snarled.

Merlin rolled his eyes, but hurried down the hall. They passed a few servants, who all gave them odd looks. Merlin supposed they were wondering what he and the Prince were doing with a baby; Merlin was wondering the same thing as well.

"Can Gaius really tell if it's a changeling?" Arthur asked as they approached the physician's chambers.

Merlin honestly didn't know. He'd heard legends of people drowning babies to discover if they were changelings. (A changeling would save itself and then be killed. A human baby would simply drown and be mourned. They did much the same thing with warlocks; unfortunately for Merlin if anyone ever accused him of magic.)

"Gaius can do everything. He's very competent, Arthur, have some faith," Merlin told the Prince, entering the physician's chambers. As if trying to prove Merlin wrong, there was Gaius leaning over a potion, oblivious to the fact that his hair was in a candle…. And on fire.

Merlin didn't even use a spell to put the fire out, nor did he even tell Gaius what had been going on. He simply shook his head, and ignored Arthur's look. Gaius looked up, looking very confused. "Merlin, where did you get a child?"

Arthur must have seen that Merlin was considering a sarcastic response, because he interfered, "We believe this to be a changeling. Is there any way to tell?"

Gaius stroked his chin, and then pulled out a book. Merlin paid little attention as Gaius flipped through the pages, instead occupying the child with feats of magic. (Arthur had installed a lock on the door to Gaius's chambers, which made Merlin and Arthur quite comfortable practicing magic openly there.) It was quite useful in this case, as the child was considerably better behaved while Merlin amused it. "I think he misses magic," Merlin noted.

"No, Merlin, I think your face is just that funny-looking," Arthur quipped. Merlin responded by amusing the baby with some more magic- specifically magic which picked up a book, and hit Arthur in the back with it.

While Arthur tried to murder Merlin, and the baby laughed wildly, Gaius shouted, "Aha! Yes, I knew there was something about this. Merlin cut an egg in half and scoop everything out of the shells. Then put water in the shells and try to boil it."

"That's absolutely absurd," Arthur remarked. Merlin wondered why he'd even bothered saying so; most likely, the whole thing being absurd was the point. He handed the baby over to Arthur, who held it like one may hold a cobra, and set about doing as Gaius instructed. The baby quickly began trying to claw at Arthur, who was quick to start using some of his own magic. It stopped the baby's screaming, though Merlin looked over long enough to see the child frowning as Arthur mispronounced spells three times before getting it correct. Somehow it seemed the child knew Arthur was different than Merlin. (Really Merlin knew the child had to be a changeling, but he continued the strange attempt anyways).

The baby noticed what Merlin was doing, and responded, "That's so weird."

"Aha!" Gaius told the child. "You're too young to speak. I demand you return to the Otherworld and return the child whose place you have stolen."

The changeling now sat straight up in Arthur's arms, not even attempting to pretend anymore. Now he looked like a sassy adult stuck in the body of a baby, and he actually rolled his eyes, "I'm not that kind of faerie. We're not all the same, you know. Next you'll be comparing me to the Sidhe; they're blue!"

"So, um, how do we get Lord Derlek back? Is he still alive?" Merlin asked the changeling.

The changeling responded with a shrug, "Do I look like a seer to you? The point of changelings is to bring fresh blood into the faerie line, so most likely your kid is fine. As for me- I don't want to go back. They sent me away, didn't they? Can't I stay here with Emrys?"

They did not know who Emrys was, and were too foolish to think about asking. Instead Arthur asked, "Where would Lord Derlek be?"

"With my parents in the Seelie Court I suppose. I'm a prince too, you know, or would be if my foul-breathed parents hadn't thrown me out for a human. Hey, you should go there, get your human back, and give them a piece of my mind! Hmm. Maybe I would go back to see that."

"Merlin, can you … do you have a name?" Arthur asked

"Oberon."

Arthur nodded, "Well, Merlin, I'll give Oberon to Gaius, and step outside, with you. We need to have a little conversation."

Merlin did not enjoy most conversations he had with Arthur, and knew this would be no exception. Still he waited until Arthur had handed over Oberon, who was now asking a distressed Gaius to do magic, and then went out into the hall.

Habitually, Arthur paces when nervous. Merlin noticed that his first week on the job, if not the first (chaotic) day. He just let the Prince do what he must. Arthur always got there, eventually. Merlin just had to have a bit of patience.

"What are we going to do?"

There Arthur was, and Merlin had to smile. A few weeks ago, a week ago even, Arthur would have asked, 'What am I going to do?' Merlin enjoyed being appreciated.

"I mean we cannot kill it, him," Arthur stated, and Merlin wondered why that even had to be stated. Obviously, they were not going to kill Oberon. Merlin wasn't going to allow them to kill Oberon even if he was an entirely malicious creature. He did not have it in him to kill something that looked, for all intensive purposes, like a baby. Merlin did not approve of babies being killed because they didn't look enough like someone's definition of a baby.

"So, _Mer_ lin, what are we going to do?"

Merlin shrugged, it seemed like they only had one choice, "We're going to do what Oberon suggested. We'll go to the Otherworld, and then get Lord Derlek back. The only question I see is whether or not we take Oberon with us. As mad as he is at his parents, I don't imagine he has much of a future here. Magical beings don't do well in Camelot."

Arthur clapped Merlin on the back so hard it hurt, "Don't be so pessimistic, _Mer_ lin. You're doing just fine."


	6. The Otherworld II- Robin

Happy Monday guys! I hope you enjoy the chapter. If you do, drop a review and come chat with me. Also... who is going to make their English teacher proud first? I'll come up with some sort of prize for whoever makes the English teacher in me proud first.

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Chapter 6-Robin

It was one thing to say you're going to go to the Otherworld and retrieve a kidnapped Lord; it is another thing to do it. Merlin hadn't taken in account the fact that the Otherworld had its name for a reason. It was another world. One does not simply walk into the Otherworld. In fact, Merlin had absolutely no idea how you got there. Neither did Arthur... Neither did Gaius.

None of them had the sense to ask Oberon if he knew how to get to the Otherworld. He did, of course, but he didn't tell them because they didn't ask. They searched through all of Gaius's books, looking for any reference to the Otherworld, but they didn't ask the one person in the room who'd been there. In their defense, Oberon did still appear to be a baby, and it's simply habit to not ask babies questions you yourself don't know answers too.

Still, they realized they had quite a bit of a problem after hours of searching through Gaius's books. Not a single book mentioned how one went to the Otherworld, though a few contained potions and amulets that could be made to protect oneself from being sent there forcibly. No one else, it seemed, had ever had the dumb desire to go to the Otherworld. Merlin and Arthur were first in their class for dumb ideas.

"This one makes a note to clarify that the innards of the cat must go above your easternmost window, not the westernmost, to keep doors to the Otherworld closed. Do you think that implies the opposite would open them?" Arthur asked, face in a dusty tome.

Merlin felt himself vomit a little, "It's possible, but I don't have the heart to kill a cat simply to test the theory. There has to be a way in. Maybe we should ask the dragon…" Merlin didn't love the idea of asking Kilgharrah anything. While he felt a certain something, connection perhaps, to his fellow magical being, there was something distinctly distrustful about the beast. Merlin doubted he would be of much help at all.

Arthur appeared to do more than doubt. He looked more ill at ease with the thought of Merlin speaking to the dragon than at the thought of killing an innocent cat. He didn't even need to openly say that he thought it was a bad idea. He just screwed up his face, and Merlin got the message.

"Right, back to the books then. Oberon, I wish you could just tell us how to get there," Merlin muttered, pulling a large book from the shelf. It made such a loud thud as it landed on the table that Merlin didn't hear anyone speak. He only heard Arthur's response, and was very confused by it.

"Wait, you mean you've known this whole time and not said anything!" Arthur shouted at the baby. It took Merlin a half second to realize what was going on, but then he glared at the baby faerie as well. He knew how to get to the Otherworld and had simply let them struggle?

Yet the baby, who was sitting on the table looking utterly bored, simply shrugged, "Well of course I know; I've been, haven't I? I didn't tell you because you didn't ask. Ask me how and I'll tell you. It will even be the truth. Everyone knows a faerie can't lie."

Merlin did know that. He also knew faeries had a very strict definition of lies, and that it was dangerous to trust them, even if they looked like an infant that should not be capable of sitting up. Still, he was out of other options, and preferred that he asked the question instead of he impatient Prince, "Alright then Oberon- how to we get to the Otherworld?"

"You lend me some of your magic, Emrys, say in the shape of a lock of hair, and then I shall open a portal."

Emrys, the strange word, name it almost seemed, resonated in Merlin's ears. It was not the first time he'd heard it, but it was the first time he'd taken true note of it. What did it mean? He knew, instinctively, that Oberon was referring to him, not in the least because Arthur didn't have magic of his own. "Why do you keep calling me that. It's not my name."

Oberon narrowed his eyes, giving Merlin a look that said, quite clearly, 'duh', "Yes, it is. Merlin Ambrosius, Myrddin Emrys, it's the same name. Emrys is your name in the tongue of the druids, and since they wrote all the good prophecies about you, it's the name everyone knows. You're really quite dumb, aren't you?"

"You are two feet long," Arthur snapped back, though the insult did not really serve to belittle the strange being before them. "And now is not the time to worry about names, _Mer_ lin. Give him some hair, and let's be on our way."

Merlin, for all his power, was dangerously naïve, and so he did as Oberon and Arthur ordered. Plucking a few strands of hair from his head, he handed them over to the baby faerie. In Oberon's hands the strands seemed to grow, lengthening, and thickening as he weaved them into a ring. He then placed that ring on his head like a coronet, and clapped his hands. Instantly Merlin's vision changed. He could still see Gaius's chambers, but they seemed almost blurry. It was only when Merlin focused his attention on a particular thing in the room that it seemed to come into focus.

Right by Oberon's head there seemed to be a thin streak of light, simply hanging in the air. Instinctively Merlin reached out for it, and as his fingers touched the light, he actually felt as if they were touching rich velvet. Carefully Merlin pried the light apart, opening it like dual curtains, and then he could see straight through into a giant forest- Faerieland, the Otherworld, Avalon, the Seelie realm.

Merlin turned around, and saw a dumbstruck look on Arthur's face. Oberon looked smug in his diaper, and declared, "I shall wait here, if you don't mind. If you manage to come back alive with the human baby I'll be forced back, magic has rules after all, but if you die terrible deaths I'd much rather stay here than there. Good luck!"

Gaius had left a few minutes ago to run some rounds, but he'd be back soon enough that Merlin trusted the changeling would not completely destroy Camelot. He also felt that they'd have an easier time traversing the Otherworld without the strange 'baby'. Arthur must have had the same thought, because while he eyed the faerie child with suspicion, he moved towards the gateway to the Otherworld one hand on his sword, but with head held high.

Merlin followed behind, feeling a strange sensation wash over him as he entered the magical realm. Merlin had never felt such strong magic in his life. It felt almost as if he'd walked into the sun, a warm strength filling him. Merlin enjoyed the feeling quite a bit.

Arthur did not. As soon he stepped through the portal he felt as if he could not breathe. The air itself seemed to crush him, and he fell to the ground. His head spun, and the light seemed to fade.

Merlin, to his credit, noticed Arthur's adverse reaction fairly quickly. He simply did not know what to do. He reached down to touch Arthur, and that seemed to help some, but the second he lifted his hand the Prince seemed worse. Panic flared within him, especially when he turned around to return through the portal with Arthur and realized it had disappeared.

"Magic," a voice squawked, literally, because the voice came from a bright red robin sitting on a nearby branch. Merlin didn't understand how the bird could speak, never mind what it was saying, but it continued to repeat the word, "Magic, Magic, Magic."

Arthur must have understood, because, with a ragged breath, he whispered, "Forbaerne."

The fire appeared in Arthur's hand, brighter and bigger than any fire he'd summoned before. Merlin impulsively grabbed his jacket and covered the flame, suffocating it, and burning right through his coat in the process. Merlin cursed himself for that bit immediately, but Arthur seemed able to stand without looking nauseous, and they had not set fire to the whole forest, so he supposed there were worse ways the situation could have resolved itself.

Still, Merlin was left with a resounding question, "What just happened?"

"I haven't done any magic for days; my father has been spending too much time with me. I think the Otherworld only allows beings that are connected to magic in some way within its forests."

Merlin supposed that made sense. A magical world would be hostile to the non-magical. (Just as the non-magical world was hostile to the magical.) "Well keep doing magic then, and pull on mine so you don't set yourself on fire. I think there is too much magic in this place."

"There's more in you," the robin chirped once more, flying down and landing on Arthur's head. Arthur tried to bat the creature away furiously, but ended up hitting himself in the face. Merlin laughed, and the robin stayed right where it desired.

Arthur's scowl seemed etched a mile deep, "There is a talking robin on my head."

"Yes, I think it's quite grand," Merlin replied, his smile wider than Arthur's frown. "But I must ask, Mr. Robin, how can you talk?"

"I'm a faerie, and today I look like this," the robin answered in reply. Merlin did not trust that answer (though, of course, it was the truth). Still he had little choice but to accept it.

"My turn", the robin declared. "What are Emrys and the Once and Future King doing in the Otherworld? Have you come to take the throne? It's empty, you know. It could be taken."

For a split second, Arthur's conditioning took over, and he desired to claim the faerie throne. His father had always taught him that he had the right to whatever throne he could claim. Still, Arthur had the sense to quickly realize that a human ruling over devious faeries could only result in trouble. The Seelie throne was not wise to long for.

Besides, and Arthur wouldn't ever admit it aloud, he suspected the robin more wanted Merlin as King. The faeries probably assumed that anyone with such powerful magic was destined to be a great King. Arthur, of course, knew better. There was probably no one in all of human history who would have been more ill-suited for a throne than Merlin. He was a blundering idiot, even if he was a blundering idiot with a good heart and frighteningly powerful magic.

"We're trying to find a stolen child. Changelings do not make good Lords of Camelot," Arthur curtly told the robin. He then began walking, though he did not know where he was going. Merlin didn't move, and Arthur scowled at him. He knew it was stupid to walk around a strange forest when you don't know where you're going, but this robin was giving him a strange feeling, and he had no desire to remain where it was.

But robins can fly, and the little bird flew right in front of Arthur's face. "I can take you there, if you want. I won't even ask for something in return."

Faeries can't lie, but this one seemed to be dangerously close to doing so. Everyone wanted something in return for services rendered. This robin knew who they were and now wanted to be 'helpful'. He wanted something. Yet faeries couldn't lie, and he said he didn't want anything in return, so Arthur could only afford to be so skeptical. (Especially because they hadn't really thought out what they would do upon arriving in the Otherworld.)

"Fine," Arthur declared, sighing loudly. He knew he would live to regret this, but he did not have much choice. "We have a…"

"Deal," Merlin interrupted, nodding his head to the robin. Arthur scowled at his servant for interrupting him, oblivious to why he'd done so. To Arthur it simply seemed as if Merlin was trying to handle every magical thing himself. He didn't need to though. Arthur might not have magic, but he'd been studying it longer than Merlin had. Merlin had barely a minute grasp of how magic worked at all. At least Arthur had a small grasp of how magic worked. Besides, even if Merlin was better at magic, that didn't mean it was his responsibility to manage it. Arthur was Merlin's prince. Arthur was Merlin's master. And he was older, three years older, so he did not need Merlin protecting him one bit. Merlin's job was to clean his room and read spells aloud. Arthur did not need protection. Merlin needed protection; the idiot surely would already have burned if he didn't have Arthur diverting everyone's suspicion.

Or so Arthur told himself, at least.

Still, the deal was struck, and if the robin wasn't, well, a robin, they would have shaken on it and been done. Just then the robin transformed, becoming a more-or-less normal looking boy. Arthur and Merlin both stared amazed at the faerie's transformation, but the robin-boy grinned. He didn't look more than ten, if that. The only thing about him that looked the least bit odd were his ears, which pointed a bit at the tip. Besides that he could have been any boy in the world (or, well, the Otherworld).

Seeing that he was just a child, Arthur relaxed. Children weren't capable of playing games like adults were, at least not of the manipulative sort. It explained, at least, why he'd been willing to make a deal without asking something in return. He was probably just starstruck to meet them. Arthur, after all, was a prince and Merlin... well he had funny ears as well. "Do you have a name? We can't call you 'robin' anymore."

The boy blinked his emerald eyes, "Well of course you can. Robin is my name! I'm Robin Goodfellow."

Arthur supposed they could call him 'Robin' then. He actually chuckled at the boy's spirited exclamation, though now he was dreading the journey. Worse than being stuck in the Otherworld was being stuck in the Otherworld with Merlin. Worse than being stuck in the Otherworld with Merlin was being stuck in the Otherworld with Merlin and a child.

"Well, Robin, if you can take us to Lord Derlek I will be in your debt," Arthur stiffly told the boy, oblivious to Merlin, who stood behind him, and cringed at the poor choice of words. Merlin, of course, didn't have any more experience with faeries than Arthur did. He did, however, appear to have more experience with folklore. It made sense that Arthur wouldn't have heard the stories common folk tell about the Good Neighbors, but Merlin had. He knew that most likely they'd gotten themselves in a world of trouble by accepting this faerie's help. All Merlin hoped was that by being the one to officially make the deal, he'd accept the consequences, and Arthur would walk free.

Robin walked away without replying, and so Merlin and Arthur had no choice but to follow the boy. They walked in silence, seeing no one, and yet Merlin could sense that they were not alone. Something about the Otherworld was making his magic go wild. He could feel the magic around him, the way the grass seemed to sizzle, and the streams bubbled. He also felt every faerie they passed, because he'd feel a momentary burst of energy. Each time Merlin felt it, he jumped a bit, looking around desperately for the faerie. Not once, though, could he find them. He was beginning to suspect that the faeries were either invisible, or within the trees. The latter seemed the most likely, as he knew dryads, tree spirits, were a type of faerie common in the Otherworld… or at least the stories said. Of course the stories also said that any man who went into the Otherworld never came out, so Merlin was hoping the stories weren't entirely true.

There was something definitively frightening about the Otherworld. Merlin knew they were in Seelie territory, and that Seelies were the faeries friendliest towards humans. This did not relax him; it instead made him terrified of what the Unseelie realm must be like.

Merlin could tell Arthur was jittery. The only words he said were occasional spells, to keep enough magic in his veins to prevent a reaction such as before, but Merlin sensed the Prince's nerves. Whenever an owl hooted, Arthur jumped, hand on his sword. At one-point Arthur drew the sword completely, and was greeted by a mouse popping up through a pile of leaves.

Robin howled in laughter, and Arthur blushed red. Merlin just managed to keep from laughing, but Arthur slapped him on the back of the head anyways. "Shut up, _Mer_ lin. It's wisdom to be cautious in enemy territory."

"Are faeries the enemy of a prince who practices magic?" Robin asked. Merlin saw Arthur blush an even deeper shade of red then. Merlin wasn't tempted in the least to save Arthur from this gaff, however. (Not that Merlin would have known how to anyways.)

"Well no… I just… I was just referring to the fact that I am in the territory of another King without permission. Of course I shall be friends to any well-intentioned being, magical or nonmagical. Though I must say, kidnapping future Lords of Camelot is not a good way to form alliances."

"I've been wondering about that," Merlin interrupted before Arthur had to stick his foot any further in his mouth. Besides, he was legitimately curious. "If you need to have a magical presence to survive in the Otherworld, how do changeling humans survive? They're not old enough to learn magic."

"How many minutes into life did Emrys use magic, I wonder?" Robin answered with a shrug. He paused his speaking and his walking as they reached a fork in the path. He wet his finger, then held it up to the wind. Merlin felt no wind, but Puck must have, because he smirked then set down the path to the left. As they began walking once more, Robin continued speaking, "We take great pride in our changelings. We only pick the weakest faeries to send away, and we only take the most powerful warlocks in return. I'm surprised no one tried to take you; or maybe they did."

Merlin's mind focusec on conjuring images if faeries trying to kidnap him, but Arthur actually realized the significance of what Robin was saying. Now it was the Prince's turn to stop dead. "Lord Derlek is a warlock? He has magic?"

"Oh yeah," Robin answered wide eyed and cheery. "Most likely powerful magic considering who took him. Makes you wonder what will happen if you take him back to his parents in Camelot, doesn't it?"

Yes, it did. Merlin and Arthur exchanged a look, both now unsure about their chosen path. It had seemed obvious before that they must return Oberon and Derlek to their real families, but the Baron and Baroness could kill him the moment they realized their infant had magic. Suddenly it seemed like the faeries were doing children a service by kidnapping them.

"Anyways, the family that took him lives right down this path, so I suppose it's time for me to collect my reward," Robin smirked, and Merlin's blood ran cold. He'd known there would be a trick in there somewhere. There always was with faeries.

Arthur drew his sword, not pleased to have been double-crossed by a child, "You said you wouldn't ask anything of us!"

Robin nodded, looking far too innocent, and far too unbothered by the sword. The reason for the latter became clear as he snapped his fingers and the sword turned to a snake in Arthur's hands. Robin laughed gleefully as Arthur dropped the animal, and it slithered away. "I know I said that, wasn't it clever? I'm not asking at all- you have to do this. You owe me a debt, and you'll repay it by killing the two faeries who have Lord Derlek! I'll even get you a new sword to do it. Won't this be fun?"


	7. The Otherworld III-Debts

Happy Monday everyone! I rewatched the Gates of Avalon last night. It's kind of disturbing how casually Merlin kills, isn't it? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this week's chapter. It's the last for this 'episode'. If you enjoyed it, please let me know. I want to know what is working and what isn't. I don't want to write something bad.

Also, the next episode involves me having some fun with multiple universes. Either Merlin or Arthur is going to find himself in an alternate universe... or well the universe in which the show actually takes place. If you have a request for which episode it should be (and whether it should be Merlin or Arthur), please drop a review and let me know.  
ENJOY!

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Chapter 7- Debts

Merlin wasn't surprised that they'd been double-crossed. Robin Goodfellow might have been a young faerie, but he was still a faerie. A real puck one might say. It was only natural that he had manipulated his words carefully enough to drive them in a corner. He'd said he wouldn't ask them to do anything; instead he ordered them to do it. Merlin and Arthur owed him a debt. Actually, (and it worried Merlin to realize it), Arthur owed Robin a life-debt. It had been Robin who'd told Arthur he had to use magic to survive in the Otherworld. Without him, Arthur would have died. Arthur owed Robin a life-debt, and Merlin was bound to Arthur, so that meant Merlin owed Robin a life-debt as well. By all the rules of magic, rules Merlin suspected held extra weight in the Otherworld, they had to do what Robin told them to.

Yet Merlin was not quite comfortable storming into the manor that lay at the end of the path and slaughtering those who lived there. He tried to reason that they had kidnapped Lord Derlek and abandoned Oberon, but it still felt wrong to march into someone's home and kill them.

"No," Arthur told the faerie, looking brave despite Robin having just turned his sword into a reptile. "I am the Prince of Camelot. I will not do your bidding."

Robin pouted, like the child he was, but the mischievous grin in his eyes didn't fizzle. Instead he snapped his fingers, and Arthur began clawing at his throat. Merlin rushed over, trying to send his magic into Arthur, but it didn't seem to work. The Prince clawed and clawed at his throat, his face turning distinctly blue. When he fell to the ground, his eyes falling shut, Merlin's magic reacted to the threat. He did not really think about what he was doing, he just turned to Robin, his eyes flashing a deep shade of gold. The faerie went flying backwards, hitting a tree with a thud.

Arthur inhaled deeply, and then proceeded to cough. He was breathing again, which was all Merlin really cared about. He turned to Robin, and found the boy faerie standing up. He was smiling, which was more than a little disconcerting, but unlike before the smile was on his face, and not in his eyes. He did not seem able to push away the sheer terror that was in his eyes.

It made Merlin feel a little sick. The mischievous faerie had attacked Arthur, but he still looked like a child. He probably was a child, by faerie standards, whatever those were. It just felt wrong to attack him, to fight him. Besides, Merlin didn't like anyone looking at him with fear, especially because of his magic. Robin was looking at Merlin the way Merlin might look at a monster. That was not a pleasing situation to be in.

Yet Merlin tried to regain his senses, and stood up straighter, "I could have killed you, but I spared you. Our debts are even. Leave us, and don't look back."

Robin took a step closer, but under Merlin's stern gaze, he backed up again. Now the boy-faerie grinned, throwing his hands in the air, "Oh it was worth a try, wasn't it? I didn't mean any offense, Emrys, it was just a prank after all. No harm done, right?"

Merlin didn't answer. He did not feel have as brave or intimidating as he apparently looked, so he suspected that his silence would frighten the boy far more than anything he could think to say. It seemed to work, because Robin let out a stilted laugh. "Yeah, no harm done. Anyways, it wasn't like I was trying to order you to kill them. That would be absurd. I would never think I could order around Emrys, you're, well you're far more famous than even I'll ever be. I was just stating a fact. You'll never get your baby Lord back if you don't kill those who took him. And kidnapping a lord results in a death sentence anyways, so I was just…"

Arthur had regained his strength enough to stand up and stare down the faerie. His voice held no trace or emotion when he told the kid, "Leave."

A resounding -pop- cracked through the air, and Robin was nowhere to be seen. A shiver crawled down Merlin's spine, but he smiled at Arthur. "Well, that went well, right?"

"That was very nearly a disaster, Merlin. It's a good thing your impressive lack of control is intimidating. If they knew what a blundering idiot you were, they would not be so quick to run."

For once Arthur was actually right. Merlin certainly hadn't been trying to attack Robin. It hadn't even crossed his mind to do so. His magic just seemed to be bound to Arthur somehow. Whenever the Prince was in danger, it reacted, whether Merlin wanted to or not.

(Momentarily, Merlin wondered what would happen if Arthur was in danger from him. If he wanted to hurt Arthur, could he? He could throw a punch at the Prat, Merlin knew that, but he had never tried to use his magic on Arthur. He didn't know if it would work. Ever since Arthur had begun pulling on Merlin's own magic for use in his spells, the destined bond between them had seemed to develop in something beyond Merlin's comprehension. It seemed very likely to him that he could never use his magic to hurt Arthur. Though that begged a further question of whether Arthur could pull on Merlin's own magic to use in a spell against Merlin. That was not a question Merlin ever wanted to discover the answer to.)

Merlin was roused from his thoughts as Arthur began walking away. Merlin followed after him, aware that Arthur was walking towards the manor to which Lord Derek had supposedly been taken, without actually stopping to discuss what they were doing. "Arthur, they're not exactly going to just give us the baby back. Robin is probably right and we're going to have to fight them, maybe kill them. I'm not even sure if it's possible to kill a faerie! Perhaps we should make a plan before charging in, especially now that we know Derlek is a warlock. He's probably better off among faeries than with parents who'd kill him!"

Arthur did not stop. He continued to march forward, forcing Merlin to continue chasing after him. Arthur did, however, at least give Merlin a reply, "Warlock or not, I don't like these stupid faeries, and I am not leaving a noble child among them."

"Would you leave a common child with them?"

Arthur did stop this time. He stopped so he could turn and look at Merlin, so that his servant saw the full extent of his glare. "What does that mean?"

Merlin shrugged. A part of him always felt uncomfortable confronting the Prince, and yet he never seemed to mince words with Arthur. "Well faeries take changelings all the time. Most of the time they take poor, common children, leaving mothers with faeries that either die in a world without magic, or terrorize their parents and village. There is a legend in Ealdor of a changeling child years ago whose magic turned the fields to ash. Half the village starved before a mob took it upon themselves to burn the faerie. It's terrible, and it happens all the time to common families. You've never concerned yourself with it before. You only care now because it's a lord that has been taken."

"That's not true. If any peasant came to us with such concerns I would respond the same way. I have great respect for the people. They're not all as dumb as you are, Merlin," Arthur answered, perhaps too quickly. His back seemed tight, and his eyes did not quite meet Merlin's.

Merlin sighed. It wasn't fair for him to expect Arthur to look at peasants and lords the same. They weren't the same. There were only a thousand noble families of the two million people in Albion. For every Lord Derlek, there were thousands of peasant children. A baron was a minor lord, but still infinitely more valuable than a peasant, at least in the world they lived in.

"We still need to decide what we do once we find him. Do we kill to retrieve him? Do we return him to the parents who'd kill him?" Merlin sighed. He did not want them to follow their usual plan of improvisation. So far that plan was not serving them very well.

"We do what we must to rescue Lord Derlek, and then, if he truly is a warlock, we shall send him to live with the druids. I do not trust faeries, Merlin."

Merlin didn't trust them either, but he didn't trust magic-hating lords either. The Baron and Baroness had both wanted to be rid of Oberon, but neither of them had spoken of having their true son returned to them. If they were such neglectful parents without knowing of their son's magic, Merlin did not trust them once they realized just what he could do. Giving him to the druids, however, seemed to be a good plan. Merlin didn't know much about the druids, but he knew they were probably the safest option of the three.

Prince Arthur Pendragon knew more about being a warrior than any other man in Albion. He'd been training to kill since birth, and he was good at it. There were times he feared that he even enjoyed it; it is hard to dislike something you are so talented at. Truly he was talented. There was no weapon he could not use. While the sword was his primary took, he was also well adept at the use of a bow, knife, or even a hammer. He also, of course, had basic proficiency with magic, the most dangerous weapon when well timed. Arthur was a knight. He was a prince. He was a warrior.

He knew that it is rare you approach battle silently. Silence and surprise can be powerful tools, but it's rare one is lucky enough to have them. The path from the woods towards the manor before them was too silent. The manor looked large enough to be considered a castle, and bold golden unicorns glistened out from long banners. Whoever lived there, whoever had taken the infant Lord Derlek, did not lack for wealth. It seemed even more unnatural, therefore, that they should approach silently. There should have been guards. They shouldn't have been able to walk right down an open path, right up to the front door, without facing any opposition. They did not even hear warning cries from behind the doors. The only sound before them was the crunching of pebbles beneath their feet as they walked down the long stone path.

Merlin, though not a warrior, seemed to have enough sense to know something was wrong. Arthur saw his servant look over to him, distrust bright in his eyes. Arthur distrusted the situation as well. It was simply unnatural. His hand went to his sword… and then Arthur realized his foolishness. Robin had turned his sword into a snake.

Arthur cursed, trying to think quickly. They were literally at their enemy's doorstep, and Arthur had forgotten to bring a weapon. He was a warrior, a great warrior, and, it seemed, a complete idiot.

"Merlin," he hissed. "Can you possibly summon me a sword?" As much as Arthur was loath to admit it, Merlin was a far more powerful sorcerer than he could ever be. He certainly did not know how to magically make a sword appear, but it would not have surprised him if Merlin did.

Merlin, however, looked at Arthur as if he'd just suggested he stop time. (Though, actually, Merlin did that all the time). "Magic doesn't work like that. I can't just make something appear out of thin air!"

"SHHHH", Arthur muttered, though, actually, his shushing was louder than Merlin. He stopped for a second, thinking. Then he pulled a knife out from beneath his coat. It was a simple little thing, used primarily when hunting, but he'd always kept it on him. Arthur had been ten the first time he'd had to defend himself against an assassin. Since then, he'd always ensured he had a number of weapons on his person.

"Maybe… maybe you could make this knife grow to the size of a sword? You're changing one thing into another, just as Robin did to my sword."

Merlin still looked incredulous, but he seemed willing to at least attempt it. He took the knife from Arthur, turning it over in his hand. He did not say anything, but Arthur saw his eyes flash a deep gold. (He noticed, also, that Merlin's eyes seemed a deeper gold here in the Otherworld than they ever seemed to be in Camelot. They were so gold it was frightening.)

The knife began to grow, lengthening, and lengthening, until it was longer than the arm Merlin held it in. It did not end up looking like a sword, simply an oversized knife. Still, Arthur accepted the weapon, feeling its weight. It was not perfect, but it would do. It was certainly better than entering the fight unarmed.

Though, Arthur was not sure quite what fight they would face considering he pushed on the door and found it completely unlocked. The distrust for the situation that had begun to grow within Arthur found itself fortified. Something was amiss in this place. Though Arthur knew that, with regards to faeries, he did not quite know if anything could be considered normal.

Arthur, sword held high, stepped into the manor, and began to look around. Its innards were as delectably decorated as it was on the outside. Carefully woven tapestries of bright purples and reds hung upon the stone walls. Beautiful paintings bordered by golden frames rested besides them. The place was clean as well, the true sign of nobility, with hardly a speck of dust on the white tile floors. Arthur had seen palaces more poorly furnished. It worried him some, actually, that the faeries who'd taken Lord Derlek seemed to be nobility in their own realm. It was far more dangerous to fight nobility than a commoner, for they had people to protect them, and people to avenge them.

Though Arthur was left wondering where the people who were to protect them had gone.

Arthur moved deeper into the house. Merlin followed silently behind, and together they looked for any signs of Lord Derlek or his kidnappers. Once, and just once, Arthur caught in the corner of his eye the edge of a ragged cloak turning around a corner. When he turned to get a proper look at the servant, however, he found nothing and no one there. He was not even confident enough that he'd seen anything at all to mention it to Merlin, and certainly not to look for whoever it was.

Luckily, most castles are arranged in a similar fashion, and in his lifetime, Arthur had been to a number of castles. The only thing truly unfamiliar about the place was the lack of people. An estate this large should have been manned by almost a hundred guards and servants, and yet they saw no one. It made Arthur more frightened than if he'd seen a hundred soldiers through whom he had to fight to retrieve Lord Derlek.

Finally, Arthur heard voices. He held up his hand, stopping Merlin behind him, and listened. He could not make out any clear words, but he did hear the sound of a wailing baby. Beyond being their only clue it seemed like the best one, and Arthur burst into the room where he heard the noise coming from.

They seemed to have entered someone's chambers, for in the center of the large room was a delicately made bed, and besides that a tall crib. Within the crib lay a bawling infant, and on the other side of the room a tall man and a beautiful woman sat across a table from each other. Each had full plates before them, and they looked up startled, then horrified, when they saw Merlin and Arthur.

"Who…. Who… GUARDS! GUARDS!" The man cried out, and Arthur only raised an eyebrow. He did not know whether he felt better or worse knowing that there really were supposed to be guards, and they simply had not been at their posts.

"Sorry mate, but you're on your own," Merlin quipped, and Arthur couldn't resist the scowl that spread across his face. Didn't Merlin know anything about tact?

Clearly not. "I mean it. There isn't a single guard in this place coming to your rescue."

Arthur spoke up, fearing Merlin, in his foolishness, would never get to the real point. "What Merlin means to say is that you had best let us take Lord Derlek without a fight. Once we've returned with him to Camelot, your real son will be returned to you. He seems like a sweet kid, I suppose, and he is your son. It will be best for everyone this way."

Arthur did not expect the faerie lords to actually listen to his sage advice. No one, it seemed, ever did the wise thing. Instead the faerie lady's eyes turned red and Arthur saw a burst of fire coming at him.

Merlin rammed into Arthur, knocking the prince over. The fireball crashed harmlessly against the wall, though too close to the crib for Arthur's comfort. Once he regained his footing, the Prince ran over to the crib, grabbing the squealing baby. He did not know how to properly hold a baby, so he simply pulled it tight against his chest, using one arm to secure it, and the other arm to whole his sword high.

The faerie lady turned to Arthur once more, though she seemed hesitant to attack him while he held the baby. Instead of throwing another fireball at him, she came charging forward. Arthur swung the sword, a bit awkwardly, but well enough to throw the faerie back. She rebounded remarkably fast, however, and when she came charging once more, muttering words in the Old Tongue, Arthur was simply a warrior. He swung his sword hard at the clearest target.

Duel thuds resounded at once as the lady's head and body fell a few feet away from each other. Lord Derlek continued to cry, louder now, if it was even possible, because he'd been splattered by blood. Arthur used his sleeve to wipe the blood from the baby's face, and then his own. He turned back to help Merlin, but it seemed the warlock needed no help. The faerie lord was nowhere to be seen, and Merlin was holding a long staph. Arthur did not want to know what you must do to someone to make it so there is not even a body.

A loud -pop- cracked through the room, and Arthur turned, ready to fight. He worried it was the guards who were supposed to be there, arriving just too late. Instead he found young Robin, bright-eyed and cheery, holding up the fat body of baby Oberon. Oberon looked upon the scene, blinking, "You killed my parents."

"Ah…" Arthur replied articulately. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't thought through the situation, not fully. He hadn't exactly expected to have to see Oberon again after killing the baby's family. Everything had just sort of happened very fast.

"Thank you!" Oberon then called out, clapping his hands together with wild excitement. "Thank you very much! Can you believe their nerve, making me a changeling? As if a human child would make a better Seelie King than me, their own son. It's a disgrace."

"Seelie King?" Merlin repeated, blue eyes going wide. Arthur suspected he looked equally as shocked. He couldn't help but look down at the faerie he'd killed… the faerie queen he'd just killed.

"Oh yes, my mother and father, the King and Queen of the Seelie Court. Terrible people, don't feel any regret. Everyone wanted them dead. Don't tell me you didn't find it suspicious that there were no guards. No one wanted to stop you. Everyone would have done it themselves, except they'd be banished for it. Speaking of which… I should have to banish you now. Before I do, I would just like to say that I am in your debts Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Ambrosius. Should you want my assistance, when you finally have the courage to stage a coup after your own father and king, I shall offer you the full support of the Seelie Court. Now, I Oberon, King of the Seelie Faeries, banish the Once and Future King and Emrys from the Otherworld for all of time. Never shall they pass through here again."

Arthur, truthfully, had nothing to say, but one way or another he was whisked away from the Otherworld before he could even form a sentence. One second, he was standing before Oberon, King Oberon, and the next he was back in Gaius's chambers, looking at Merlin.

"Did we… did we just assist a faerie coup?" Merlin finally stammered.

Arthur looked down. Baby Lord Derlek was in his arms still, and had finally stopped screaming. Instead he now was looking up at Arthur with interest. He reached for Arthur's nose, giggling as he did. Suddenly, the baby's eyes turned gold, just for a second, but long enough for Arthur's heart to sink. It seemed he really could not return him to his parents. With a heavy sigh, Arthur ordered, "We are never to discuss what happened there. Now come on. We need to get him to the druids."


	8. The Witch's Quickening I-Memory

AN: I spent a good half-hour trying to decide what episode to have my fun with. In the end, I went with this one. I hope you enjoy. If you do, could you leave a review? If I don't know people are enjoying, then I have no reason to write.

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Episode III-The Witch's Quickening

Chapter 8- Memory

"Rise and shine!" Merlin chimed, waking Arthur. The Prince of Camelot had barely opened his eyes when suddenly Merlin pulled his shades back, letting the bright light pour in. It burned Arthur's eyes. He wanted to turn back over and fall asleep. His body felt heavy, tired. He hadn't done anything the day before to deserve so many aches, had he? Arthur didn't remember doing anything out of the ordinary. He'd trained with his knights, and with Merlin, dined with his father and Morgana… it had been a normal day, or as normal as any day in Camelot. The only thing that could possibly have left him so sore was the magic training; Merlin had thrown him about quite a bit. He'd make his manservant pay for that.

Speaking of the manservant… he looked vaguely different. Was it something in the hair? His clothes was the same as always, at least, and nothing was pronounced enough for Arthur to name it. Merlin just seemed ever-so-slightly different.

He certainly seemed more tired than normal. It was first thing in the morning, the castle just awaking, but Merlin had heavy bags under his eyes, and his boots and pants were muddy and worn. Merlin appeared to have been up for hours, but what would he have been doing if that was the case? Because of his magic Merlin had quite a bit of free time on any given day. He could do all of his chores in an instant, after all, so most of the time he followed Arthur around and did nothing but stand there, pretending he was working. Arthur was fairly certain he paid Merlin more than he was owed, but considering how frequently his servant risked death by Arthur's side, he could keep the money.

That morning, Merlin didn't appear to be using magic for his chores. Normally he walked into the room, locked the door, and then let chaos break loose-armor flying about, the fire lighting itself, the bed making itself whether or not Arthur had arisen yet. Merlin didn't do any of that this morning. No, he actually walked over to the fire and began striking a flint, trying to alight it. Arthur watched curious as Merlin struggled. The wood appeared a bit damp, and it did not seem prepared to burn. It was curious for Arthur, to watch Merlin, who always seemed to be able to do everything, struggling.

If Arthur was being honest, he was quite jealous of Merlin at times. It seemed no matter what he did, Merlin was always that much more exceptional than him. Arthur was Prince of Camelot, about as exceptional as they came. He had money. He had power. There was no one in all of Albion, possibly the world, more skilled with a sword. Arthur was exceptional. Yet Merlin was something beyond that. He didn't look like much- scrawny, poor, a ragged scarf around his neck- and yet he was truly exceptional. There were many princes in the world. There was no one like Merlin. His magic was so raw, so untrained, and yet it still did exceptional things. Arthur always felt like he should be the one fighting, and yet Merlin so often did more than him. He had no magic of his own. He could fight many things with a sword and a few rudimentary spells, but it seemed, as of late, that the problems facing Camelot could not be so easily quelled. They required exceptional magic, which only Merlin had. It was enough to make anyone feel useless and jealous. Arthur was simply the only one who knew what was occurring.

Therefore it was nice for him, in a cruel way, to see Merlin struggle. When he couldn't use his magic, Merlin was downright useless. Arthur had servants to do things like light a fire, but he could do it himself as well, with or without magic. In fact, though it was enjoyable to watch Merlin struggle, Arthur quickly found himself sick of waiting, and snapped, "For Christ's sake, Merlin, just use magic- Forbaerne."

The fire roared to life, but Merlin did not move. Arthur swung out of bed, beginning to undress, before realizing that Merlin was still crouching by the fire. Every muscle in his back seemed to stretch and tense. He could easily have been a stone. Arthur didn't get it one bit. Why was Merlin being so odd this morning?

As typical, Arthur just bluntly asked, "Merlin, what's gotten into you? You look as if you're about to wet yourself."

Merlin finally turned around, and Arthur saw that his servant looked ill. His skin was pale, without a hint of red. His hands were shaking, his eyes darting back and forth. He looked like a deer that just caught sight of the arrow coming to kill it. He even was unable to string together a sentence, and instead said, "Arthur…I… I….You… "

Arthur rolled his eyes, and walked towards Merlin. He stood close to his servant, even reaching out to touch the back of his forehead, "You don't feel feverish. Why are you being so odd? I'd say you're acting like a girl, but I think that would be an insult to girls everywhere. Morgana has far more sense than you."

At the mention of Morgana's name, Merlin's blue eyes grew wide, and he seemed to regain some coherency of thought. Still, what he said next made no sense to Arthur at all, "Arthur, you just did magic."

"Yes, Merlin, how astute. You'd think the greatest warlock of all time would be able to recognize one of the simplest spells there is." Arthur didn't understand why Merlin sounded so torn up about it. It was not like there was anyone but them in the room. Whenever the door to Arthur's chambers were locked the two of them openly did magic. It was the only way for Arthur to improve his strength… and Merlin to improve his control.

Yet Merlin continued to look like it was Arthur, and not his servant, who was acting odd. "Arthur… I… I don't know why you would say that. I am not a warlock. Magic is illegal. You can't…"

Arthur was fed up with all of Merlin's games. He put his foot down, standing tall, and glaring at Merlin. "Merlin, that's enough. Of course magic is illegal, I'm not yet King. Of course I did magic, I do magic every day, as do you, might I remind you. You've been my servant for six months, and we've done this every day."

"Six months? Arthur, I've been your servant for two years!"

What? Arthur didn't have a clue why Merlin would say something so ridiculous. Merlin had only been in Camelot for six months, and Arthur had hired him the day they met. What was worse, Merlin didn't appear to be kidding. The man was a terrible liar, truly, and yet he looked dead serious. Arthur simply didn't understand.

"No, Merlin, you've been my servant for six months. I remember. I was going to ask Gaius why my knights insisted on dueling me, and I found you having spilled all of his potions. Gaius told me right then of your magic, and I hired you on the spot. That was six months ago."

Merlin raised an eyebrow, "No. Your father hired me two years ago after I saved you from that witch. And Gaius could never have told you I had magic. For one, he would never tell, not that there is anything to tell, because I don't have magic."

"Alright, Emrys, you've lost it."

Merlin went cold once more, head whipping about, "What did you just call me?"

Arthur barely remembered. He was about to respond by saying 'idiot' when he realized what name he'd used. "I called you Emrys, like everyone with magic seems to. It's not important. I want to know why you seem to have forgotten everything about me. I need to bring you to Gaius, have him check your head. Did I finally hit you too hard?"

"Well I'm sure you have," Merlin replied, and Arthur relaxed some. If his friend could still joke… well then at least it was still Merlin, in a way. "But Arthur, Gaius will only end up checking out your head, or having a heart attack on the spot when I tell him that you're practicing magic."

"Gaius has known I've practiced magic since I was fifteen," Arthur snapped back, dressing quickly. He was going to go to Gaius, and they were going to sort this out. Then Arthur would set about his duties, and he'd leave Merlin to figure out his thoughts. Hopefully Gaius had some potion that could fix Merlin. Arthur didn't think this was funny anymore. (Actually, it hadn't been funny from the start).

Merlin seemed at a loss for words, but followed Arthur. At least the castle seemed to be exactly as Arthur remembered it. He passed servants he recognized, portraits that had hung on the Citadel walls for hundreds of years. Everything seemed just fine to him, except for Merlin, that is.

Gaius's chambers seemed perfectly normal as well. There were books and potions strewn about everywhere, and the physician himself sat hunched over a bench, reading. He looked up when Arthur burst in, and then jumped to his feet, "Your Highness, what can I do for you?"

"You can tell me what is wrong with my manservant. Merlin here seems to have forgotten that he has only been in my employ for six months, and that in that time we have used our magic to fight renegade sorcerers and even some faeries."

Gaius's mouth fell open, and then, from behind Arthur, he heard Merlin snort, "I told you that you'd only give him a heart attack."

Gaius certainly did look distressed. Arthur didn't know what to say. His eyes fell upon the book Gaius had been reading when they entered. Sketched onto the page was a crystal Arthur recognized from the vaults, "Is that the Crystal of Neahtid? What are you doing looking into that?"

Gaius shook his head, "Sire, I think it would be best if you sat down. It seems that there is something affecting your memory. Merlin has been in your service for two years, neither of you have magic, and the whole of Camelot is trying to find the crystal, which was stolen yesterday."

Arthur actually did sit down. He took a seat upon the bed Gaius kept for patients, and let his head fall into his hands. Clearly this was no longer simply a joke. Gaius was not the joking type, and Arthur would know if Merlin was lying. They were both dead serious which meant… well Arthur didn't know what that meant. This all made very little sense to him. He had to sit down, because otherwise he probably would have run away.

Gaius pulled up a seat as well, studying Arthur carefully. He mustn't have seen anything to indicate what was wrong with him, for he began carefully, "I think it is possible you have been enchanted. You have not simply forgotten your life, you have created an entirely new version of history."

"You're talking as if it's not real, as if everything in my mind is fake."

Gaius placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, squeezing it tight, "Sire, I know this may be difficult to understand, but I do believe everything in your mind simply must be fake."

Arthur felt ready to be sick. How could the memories in his head be fake? Gaius was basically implying that his whole life was a lie, that the thousands of memories, details, and experiences he knew were all fake. How could that even be? "It can't… it can't all be fake. You're calling me Sire, so I must still be the Prince. Merlin is still my servant. You are still the physician. Can I assume Uther is still my father? That Morgana is still his ward?"

"Yes, Sire, all of those are true. Why don't you work backwards, telling me what you remember? Perhaps if we can discover where the memories diverge we shall find the cause of this, though I must assume, until proven otherwise, that this has to do with the stolen crystal."

"The crystal shows you the future, it doesn't change your memories of the past," Arthur answered, shaking his head. Gaius and Merlin did not seem shocked by this information, though they did seem surprised that Arthur knew it. It left the Prince wondering just how useless he was before being given all of these false memories.

"Very well… I am Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot. I've spent the past few months learning magic and fighting enemies of Camelot with my manservant Merlin. Before that, I practiced magic in secret, firing my manservants whenever they began to discover the truth…"

"When did you begin to practice magic? How many spells do you know?" Gaius interrupted.

Arthur tried to count, but found he was not able, "Perhaps thirty? I'm not good at magic, not like Merlin. I can say a spell if I'm taught, and it works, but I'm not magic incarnate. I've been doing this since I was fifteen. I began because I was angry at my father, over what I do not even know. He wanted me to be the perfect prince, and I simply couldn't do it, so I decided I would be the worse prince possible. Of course, as soon as I began to learn magic I realized my father would simply kill me if he ever knew, so I kept it secret. I became the perfect prince, to delay suspicion."

Gaius nodded slowly, "It seems to me as if that is where the memories diverge. The Arthur I know never rebelled at all. He hates magic simply because his father hates magic."

Arthur couldn't imagine that. As a child he'd been scared of those with magic, and then, as he'd aged, he'd decided to try magic himself. Ever since he did, ever since he realized how good, and how addicting, magic could be he'd never feared it. He'd only ever feared being found out. How could Gaius look him in the eye and say he was supposed to hate magic? How could that even be possible?

Especially when… "But Merlin is still my servant. How stupid do you have to be to be a warlock serving someone who hates magic?"

"Your memories are wrong, Arthur, I don't have magic," Merlin answered, but too quick. While Arthur wasn't sure whether or not he believed that his memories were all wrong, he knew Merlin had magic. Perhaps he'd never done magic before that morning, but he knew how to feel for the magic around him. He could feel it from Merlin, like a beacon, waiting to be called upon. Merlin had magic. He hadn't simply made that up.

"Forbaerne ácwele," Arthur said, pulling on Merlin's own magic to throw a fireball at him. Merlin easily caught the ball in his hands, dissipating it, with his eyes a bright shade of gold. Arthur smirked. "I may have lost my mine, but I know you have magic."

Merlin stared, half-horrified, half-amazed. Gaius simply shook his head, "You're certainly as foolish as my Arthur. Very well, yes, Merlin has magic, and for the moment, so do you. I hope I do not need to impress upon you the need to keep this a secret?"

No, he did not. Arthur was used to hiding his magic. In his mind at least. "I still do not understand how the past six years of my life were simply made up overnight, but whatever the case, I suspect whoever took the crystal is also the one enchanting me. I imagine I'm supposed to be leading the search for the stolen object?" Merlin nodded. "Well then I should probably know what happened."

"Two nights ago, there were intruders in the castle. I heard them in my head- one of them was a druid boy, Mordred. Do you know him?" Merlin asked. Arthur tried to remember if he knew any druids by that name, but he couldn't think of it, and shook his head.

For some reason, Merlin seemed relieved. "Well Mordred and his father were captured last year. His father was executed, but Morgana, you, and I helped him escape. The other night I heard him speaking in my head, not to me, but to others. They came into the castle… I don't know why. Yesterday your keys were stolen, and the crystal taken right from the vault. You searched the town but found nothing. I believe I may know where it is though. I followed the voice in my head this morning, before dawn, and I found the crystal among a group of bandits let by a man named Alvarr. He's not powerful enough to use the crystal, but Mordred is."

Merlin looked nervous when he answered. He did not appear to be lying, but Arthur also felt as if he wasn't being told the truth. Still, it made sense. Things such as what Merlin described happened all the time in his Camelot. There was no reason why they could not happen the same in this 'true' Camelot. "Then we should ride out at once. No one is wise when they believe themselves to know the future. I fear what Camelot's enemies could do, especially if they are using a child to predict such things."

Merlin and Gaius looked at each other, speaking silently. Arthur, much to his annoyance, did not have a clue what they were saying. Finally, however, Merlin turned to him, "Alright, let us go, but you must be careful. These bandits have killed knights of Camelot. They are not solely seeking to free magic; they desire to kill you and your father to do so."

That was something Arthur had heard many times before. He really hated how many of his fellow sorcerers resorted to violent measures to free themselves from his father's oppression. It was much wiser, in Arthur's mind, for them to simply keep their magic hidden and wait for the day when he could free them all. Arthur had killed hundreds of people over the years, probably more. He only killed those attacking him or his kingdom, however. He did not like the offensive. Everyone wouldn't fear magic so much if they didn't solely see it used for destruction.

"Perhaps they can be reasoned with, or perhaps we shall fight them. We still must go, just the two of us. Knights can be useful, but I would prefer us to be able to use magic openly than have extra swords."

Merlin gave him a look then, that Arthur couldn't quite name. It made him crawl in his skin a bit, however, because the closest adjective he could think of was amazed. Merlin looked baffled and amazed by his words. Arthur wrung his hands, needing to fidget. What was he normally like, with his real memories, that left Merlin so surprised? Perhaps the Arthur who didn't have magic preferred brute strength to diplomacy? If that was the case, Arthur hoped they could fight these bandits, and retain his fake memories. He did not really want to once more become a person who Merlin had to fear, who blindly followed Uther in his war against magic. If everything they said was true, Arthur preferred his fake life.


	9. The Witch's Quickening II-Lies

I figure you guys don't want excuses, so I'll simply say sorry for not updating last week, and sorry for it technically being Tuesday that I'm updating on now. This chapter totally got away from me, and decided to change the entire plot of this fic. What is one going to do?

Enjoy!

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Chapter 9-Lies

Arthur and Merlin rode out soon after, none questioning them. Arthur saw Morgana staring at them as they went, but she said nothing, just watched as they disappeared into the woods.

Merlin claimed to know the way, having apparently already ridden there and back before even coming to wake Arthur up. Alvarr's camp was well over an hour's ride away from Camelot, so Arthur didn't know how Merlin had managed it. Merlin didn't even appear particularly tired. There were no bags beneath his eyes, no hint of shadows across his face. He looked nervous, though only because he kept staring at Arthur, as if wondering who he was. Still, that was understandable, and not a symptom of exhaustion. How was Merlin not exhausted?

"Merlin, can I ask you something?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow, and smiled in a way which reminded Arthur of his own Merlin… if such a man existed. "Magic and manners, I should thank these sorcerers."

Arthur rolled his eyes, comforted by the jibe. Yet he was still uncomfortable. He hesitated to speak, squirming in the saddle. Finally he bucked up the courage to ask his question… just not the courage to look Merlin in the eye while doing so. "You hadn't told me that you knew who had the crystal. I mean… if I hadn't had magic, you were not going to tell me, were you?"

"I would have, actually," Merlin replied simply, and then he rubbed his neck, which told Arthur it wasn't a simple thing at all. "I wouldn't have… I can't tell you everything. I can't explain knowing Mordred was here without explaining my magic. I tried to, actually, and made a mess of it. You hit me for it. But I would have told you where they were. I would have found some excuse for knowing… I always do."

Arthur sat back, letting his rein fall into one hand as he contemplated Merlin. Merlin, who he trusted so much in his world, was a remarkably good liar in this, it seemed. Arthur could not imagine his Merlin managing to remain undetected for two years. Surely, without Arthur's help, his Merlin would already have found himself without a head. It was simply inevitable.

"You say you always do. Does that mean this is common, you fighting magical things without anyone else knowing? You do this alone and I, what, blunder after you like an idiot, taking credit for slaying a giant when really you hit it on the head with a tree trunk?" Arthur asked. It was humorous situation he posed, but it did get at his root question- how did Merlin live like this? How did he do all this while Arthur was ignorant? What did it say about Arthur, if he could be that ignorant?

Merlin smirked a little, which bothered Arthur even before his manservant spoke. "We've never fought a giant, but that has happened with a bandit or two. Really, Arthur, it's not as if you do nothing. I simply help from the shadows. You're the knight, the prince, the hero. I'm mostly the one who trips those who try to get away."

Merlin said that, and Arthur knew it to be another lie. Merlin had been the one to know the crystal was being stolen. He'd been the one to get up in the early dawn to find where it had been taken. He was the one guiding everything about this mission, and not just because Arthur had awoken remembering an entirely different life. This, this Arthur suspected, was what always happened; he just was not supposed to know.

"I think you are a hero. I doubt even magic could make me imagine you as such if I didn't already know it somewhere in my heart," Arthur admitted, then wondered why. He would never have even called his own Merlin a hero, not in front of him at least. Perhaps that was why. Though everyone and everything was telling Arthur that all of his memories were wrong, this Merlin still felt like the fake, and the real Merlin, the warlock Arthur trained with, would return any minute.

Merlin blinked, but said nothing of it. Instead he shrugged. "I do what I have to, to protect you so one day you can free everyone with magic."

"But I hate magic. You said that I am supposed to hate magic, so how can I free it?"

Arthur meant it as a legitimate question, but Merlin looked affronted. He balked, a line appearing between his brows. _He doesn't know._ Arthur realized, feeling horrible. _He must ask himself that question all the time and he doesn't have a solution. It must be hard for him to imagine you ever could free magic, and yet he still believes you will. The loyal fool believes you will._

Arthur sighed, shaking his head, "If… if when this is over I forget again, you should tell me. I imagine I'll be furious, but I doubt I'd try to kill you. Maybe I can write myself a note, though honestly if I had a note written in my own writing that I don't remember I would think it a trick of magic, so perhaps not. You must tell him… me, though. It's impossible to hide forever, and the longer you lie for, the harder it will be for him, me, to forgive you."

Arthur got tripped up by the pronouns, but Merlin seemed to have barely heard it at all. He was looking down at his horse's neck, playing with the dark mane to avoid looking at Arthur. _It's easy for you to tell him this, but it's his neck on the line,_ Arthur reminded himself, but he didn't know what else to say. If it was him-which he supposed it was- he would want to know the truth. Surely in two years he'd developed enough of a friendship with Merlin not to burn him. In his own mind, Arthur had been too fond of Merlin to burn him after five minutes. Six months later Merlin could quite literally get away with murder. It would be wrong, to let him do so, but it would still be the truth. Arthur could never hurt Merlin. He could never do it.

"I hope you don't forget," Merlin whispered, barely loud enough for Arthur to hear. But he did hear. He did, and he didn't want to forget either. He just doubted he would have much choice in the matter.

"If I do forget, you must tell me everything again. That is an order, Merlin. But first, you must tell me what it is I have forgotten. You say we have a long ride- tell me. I want to know everything that we have done since we met, and then I shall tell you the reasons why I would never kill you."

Merlin raised an eyebrow, and frowned. "Or perhaps then you will understand why you should. I'm not a hero Arthur. I've killed- I've killed for you."

That left a lump in Arthur's throat. He knew this. His Merlin had killed as well. He'd killed to protect, just as Arthur had. "I am a knight. I do not abhor just violence, and neither should you. Tell me, Merlin. I want to know. Sometimes… sometimes it does us good to speak of that for which we are ashamed."

Arthur's voice weakened towards the end, and nearly cracked. His mind flashed to his own failures, his own shames. Perhaps he would not mind his memories being fake after all. Arthur remembered many things he'd done, and many more he hadn't, with burning shame. Merlin dared say he was a killer, a man worth executing. He had no idea what Arthur had done, or, at least, what he remembered doing. There was one thing in particular, that Arthur hoped was simply a false memory. Perhaps he could look Merlin in the eye easier.

Merlin could not look Arthur in the eye. He spoke though, looking down at the ground as he did, but speaking never-the-less. "I came to Camelot because everyone in my village was growing suspicious. My magic was getting to be too powerful, and my mom wanted me with someone who might know how to train me. Gaius used magic, before it was illegal… he's helped me a lot."

"He helped me, in my world. I would surely have been caught years ago if he hadn't," Arthur mused aloud, for himself more than anything. Merlin certainly didn't have anything to say to that. He just nodded, then continued his tale.

"Right when I got to Camelot, I saw a man executed for magic… Thomas Collins. His mother swore then she'd get revenge- a son for a son. She meant to kill you, and she would have. I stopped time, I saved your life, and for that your father made me your manservant, something he had regretted since, I'm sure."

As far as Arthur knew, he'd never seen a Thomas Collins executed. He tried, he truly tried, to keep note of everyone he failed to save, but he worried as well, that he'd missed one. Had he missed Thomas Collins? _Yes, you're missed everyone. Nothing in your mind is true, remember. You've never saved anyone._

It made Arthur feel physically sick, and he tried to drive the thought away by speaking, "So that is how we first met, you saved my life, and you think I'd kill you?"

Merlin, much to Arthur's surprise, actually grinned, "Oh no, the first time I met you I called you a prat and you sent me to the stocks. After that, we had a brawl in the streets. It started because you were throwing knives at your servant and…"

Merlin's story tumbled out, and Arthur listened. He interjected once or twice, commenting on how he'd met faeries, but not Sidhe, or when he was unable to resist making a joke at Merlin's expense. Mostly, however, Arthur just listened. He had very little to say. He'd complained before about Merlin's ability to gab, but it finally came in handy. He spun tales like a trained minstrel, and yet Arthur knew these were true. If anything, Merlin was downplaying his accomplishments, not exaggerating them. In fact, he hardly seemed to recognize them as accomplishments at all. He spoke of killing Nimueh-the most powerful sorceress in the world, a sorceress who'd plagued all of Camelot, and tried to see Merlin dead-with regret. Arthur wanted to shake Merlin and scream at him that he was a hero, that he'd saved them all, but he didn't. Instead he just listened.

As Merlin got to more recent events, he seemed to be omitting things. Arthur didn't know exactly what, but he knew Merlin wasn't telling him the whole truth. There was something, or someone, he was hiding. Despite every instinct in his body telling him to do so, Arthur didn't press the issue. He trusted Merlin. By the gods, he'd trusted Merlin before hearing all of this, but after hearing this- Arthur would never doubt Merlin again. No matter what he had to sacrifice, Merlin had always done what was right. He'd risked everything, lost everything, to save Arthur, and he hadn't even known. Arthur didn't care that he didn't remember being ignorant to Merlin's deeds; he felt terrible. He should have helped Merlin, like he did in the version of history within his head. Perhaps that was why it was there. Perhaps he'd simply been given a taste of what things should have been like all along.

Finally, Merlin was done, and Arthur didn't know what to say. Merlin had been speaking for nearly an hour. There were too many things for Arthur to comment on, to ask about, for him to ask about anything at all. He simply sat there, riding forward silently for a long time. Finally, he accepted that there was only one thing he could say, and he said it. "Thank you, Merlin. Thank you."

Merlin nodded, as if Arthur was simply thanking him for filling his wine goblet, or cleaning his room. It made Arthur want to scream at his manservant. Perhaps he would have, if Merlin hadn't suddenly held up a hand and pulled his horse to a stop, shifting Arthur's mind back to why they'd been riding for an hour in the first place.

A short distance before them was a wide stream, and just beyond that, barely visible in the mid-day sunshine, was smoke rising up. Arthur felt the fool; he'd almost blundered right into the bandits' camp with his carelessness.

"Remember, we want to try to talk first. It is possible they only harm us because they mean we intend to harm them. If I can convince them that, one day, magic will be free, it is possible they will return the crystal to us without a fight," Arthur whispered. Merlin snorted in response. In truth, Arthur had little more confidence than his servant, but they did have to try. He would not fight these people without giving them the chance.

An arrow whizzed by Arthur's head. From the silent trees, a dozen men burst forth, brandishing swords, spears, bows… and magic. One of them had a ball of fire floating above his hand, prepared to be thrown. Arthur's hand went to his sword, but he called out, "Stop this and let us speak! I come in peace to parley!"

"Ionnsaigh!" a voice called out in response. Before Arthur had time to wonder what language it was, never mind what it meant, he discovered the answer to the latter. From all sides the bandits attacked. Arthur no longer hesitated, drawing his sword and striking at any who'd come near, meanwhile ducking to hide from the fire and arrows. He felt a stab of pain along his shoulder, and turned for a moment to see a long gash from an arrow, just beneath where his chain-mail ended.

He could still yield a sword, though, and did. In truth, it was of little use. Even Merlin, who used his magic openly, throwing attackers away, did not seem to possess the strength of the Merlin in Arthur's mind. His movements were too carefully calculated to work against so many foes.

Arthur was knocked from his horse by a well-aimed fireball. The edge of his cloak began to flame as he landed in the dirt, and he tried desperately to unclasp it. He had no hand to do so, however, because three bandits decided to take advantage of his state, and attack. Arthur could possibly have held them off if he'd been on his feet and in full fighting form, but injured, lying down, and half on fire he stood no chance. Within seconds he felt steel at his throat, and dropped his weapon. Another bandit came over, stomping on the flaming cloak, and then grinning down at Arthur. "I'd heard of your arrogance, Prince Arthur, but truly, coming with just a servant to defeat me, that's just stupidity."

At the mention of his servant, Arthur looked around, nearly slashing his own throat on his enemy's blade. His eyes found Merlin, though, lying slumped over another bandit's shoulder. For a horrifying moment, Arthur thought he'd been killed, but he saw the veins in Merlin's neck bulging, and the rise and fall of his chest. He was alive, at least. They both were.

The bandit who stood over Arthur called out, "Bind them, let's see if we can't ransom the Prince for other things in that pretty vault of theirs. And if he won't cooperate, use the servant."

"No! You promised not to hurt them!" A woman's voice called out and Arthur didn't understand. He knew that voice. He'd heard it far too often for… for years. He'd heard it nearly every day! He'd especially heard her yelling, as she was now. It didn't make sense though. How could she…

Morgana came running towards them, horrified. She looked ready to fly at the bandits, fists at the ready, but Arthur was still wondering why she was there. He'd seen her watching them when they left. She'd had to have ridden fast and hard, down a different path, to arrive before them. Then, of course, there was the question of why she was even there in the first place.

The leader of the bandits smiled at her, but it was not a friendly smile. Arthur's blood ran cold. "Oh I'm sick of this. Tie up the Lady Morgana as well."

Morgana fought, desperately to escape. Arthur could see her fighting even from where he lay on the ground. She reached for one of the bandit's swords, and probably could have done some good with it had another of the bandits, a woman, not come and knocked her on the back of the head. She fell, not unconscious, but groaning in pain. When she raised her head, her eyes were a bright gold, but nothing magical seemed to happen. It didn't need to though. Arthur could see the eyes clearly, and he knew. _Morgana has magic. Morgana. Has. Magic._

"Arthur I…" Morgana's voice cracked as she began her plea, but she was unable to finish. Before she could say anything else at all, the female bandit kicked her once move. Arthur tried to jump to his feet, instinctively ready to protect Morgana, the woman who, for all her bossiness and faults, was the closest thing he had to a sister. He could do nothing though. He barely made it to his knees before he felt the sharp blades pressed against his back.

Arthur had no choice but to give them his hands and let them bind him. His heart ached as he watched them do the same to Morgana and his unconscious manservant. He wished Merlin was awake. If he was, his magic would surely be enough to get them all out of this mess. Arthur barely knew how to do anything at all with his magic, and from the look of terror in Morgana's eyes when they'd glowed gold, she could do even could still not believe Morgana had magic. He said had, and not did, because of the fear in her eyes. She didn't choose this, as he had. She was like Merlin-a warlock, or whatever the female version was- unable to control herself. Arthur had known what a terrible fate that was before he'd heard Merlin's story earlier. Now he could hardly imagine such a thing, and for Morgana of all people.

They threw Merlin, Arthur, and Morgana in a tent, placing three guards outside. It was a small thing, best fit for keeping out summer weather, with nothing of note inside. Arthur barely looked around. Of course, his attention fell mostly to Merlin, who was beginning to wake from his unconscious state, and Morgana, who'd begun to sob beside him.

Arthur was torn between the two. Both needed him, not that he had much comfort to offer. Finally, he decided to turn to Morgana. She was turned away from him, crying, her face in her bound hands. Arthur hated it when Morgana cried. Even when they were little, he'd never known what to do. He did his best then, placing his own hands on her shoulder the best he could considering their tight bindings.

Morgana pulled away, but now looked at Arthur. Tears flooded her eyes, which had returned to their natural color. Her lip trembled. "I'm sorry. I thought… Mordred said… I'm so sorry. Please. Don't hate me. I'm not evil. I'm not…"

"Morgana, it's alright. I don't hate you. I don't understand what you're doing here or what is going on, so perhaps I should be angry with you, but not because of your magic. I don't care that you have magic."

Morgana's eyes were so wide, they seemed to take up half her face. "But Uther…"

"Father is a fool. I love him desperately, but he is a fool and a bigot. I know magic is not evil I even… I have even studied it myself." Arthur did not mention that, apparently, he'd only studied it in a dream world of a sorcerer's creation. Whatever would happen once they get out of this mess, at the moment Arthur did know magic, and he knew Morgana. He knew she could never be evil, even if she did have magic.

She, however, was not so sure. "It was me Arthur. I stole the crystal to give to Mordred. He said they needed it to help those with magic. When I saw you and Merlin riding out I came and warned them. This is all my fault. If Merlin is hurt…"

"I'm not," the manservant grunted, sitting up. Arthur noticed a trickle of blood near his temple, but he seemed alright. He didn't seem to be giving Morgana any kind looks though.

Morgana bit her lip, looking frightened. It took Arthur a moment to realize why, and then he did for her what Gaius had once done for Merlin. "It's alright, Morgana, Merlin isn't scared of your magic either. In fact, Merlin can help you. He's the most powerful warlock in the world. Merlin… Morgana has magic."

 _He knew already,_ Arthur realized as Merlin looked away. Arthur felt betrayed. Merlin had known Morgana had magic and hadn't told him? Hadn't told her? How could he? How could he keep that a secret? From Arthur he supposed that made sense, but how do you not tell someone that they have magic?

At least Merlin admitted to it now, and had the decency to look ashamed. "Your dreams, Morgana, they're not dreams, and we both know it. Gaius and I didn't want to tell you it was magic until we knew that you could do things while awake. It's too heavy a burden to worry about needlessly."

Arthur could agree to that, though he did not begrudge Morgana the betrayal evident in her eyes.


	10. The Witch's Quickening III-Mordred

Happy Monday everyone! Enjoy! I never intended to write this second half of this 'episode' but it's gone in an interesting new path. I like it.

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Chapter 10- Mordred

Arthur Pendragon had very little patience, and less when he was imprisoned. Morgana had gone silent and still, brewing in the many betrays she'd faced. Arthur, perhaps, would have felt bad for her, except he was too busy trying to escape the mess she'd created. He began to pace, moving back and forth across the small tent, looking to see if there was anything that could be used as a weapon. Magic, of course, was an option, though the guards presumably had it as well, and there were two guards for each of them, more if Morgana did not know how to use her magic, which was Arthur's suspicion.

He sighed loudly, and hissed, "Merlin, how many guards can you handle?"

Merlin peered out of the tent, before shrugging. "Enough, but we cannot leave without the crystal. It's too dangerous to be left with these people. We could beat our guards, but not the whole camp."

It was a fair enough statement, though Arthur wished the odds were more in their favor. Perhaps with Morgana's help they could fight their way out, but there were too many bandits for them to get the crystal and escape. They could not even escape and hope to come back with a larger force, for the bandits would certainly be gone in the time it took to go to Camelot and back.

Arthur cursed himself for coming alone, for attempting to do things peacefully. His father's way was not right, but it was certainly simpler. "Morgana, I don't want to know how you came to befriend these people, but tell me there is something you know about them that can help us?"

Morgana bit her lip, and Arthur's hope soared. She clearly knew something, and she had to help them. For whatever reason she'd helped them, she had to know now they were no good. "Mordred… I came for Mordred. He's just a child, Arthur. He doesn't deserve to be hunted like a dog just for what he is!"

No, he didn't. None of them did. All three of them in that tent, and this boy, wherever he was, would be killed by Uther if he knew of their magic. Class, age, sex, even familial relations- none of it mattered to Uther when he was thinking about magic. "It won't be like this forever. When Father is gone, I will legalize it, but I'll never have any support doing so if the only magic people see is dark. Trust me Morgana. You must trust me."

For a reason unbeknownst to Arthur, Morgana looked down at a cuff on her wrist. Then she looked back up at him and nodded, "Of course, Arthur. Of course I trust you. What must I do to help?"

Arthur, unfortunately, did not actually know. Luckily, he had Merlin. (Which just about summed up his life.) Merlin turned to Morgana and said, "If I can get Mordred to come in here, do you think you can convince him to help us?"

Morgana did not reply because Merlin practically jumped out of his skin. Arthur didn't know what was going on, but he saw Merlin raise a hand to his temple. What had his servant said before, about speaking to the druid boy in his mind? Arthur had no doubt that the same thing was occurring then.

Arthur heard the sound of the tent flapping. He looked towards the entrance, but saw nothing but the guards. Then he turned around. Standing in the back of the tent, having undone one of the spikes and snuck under the fabric, was a boy of ten or eleven by Arthur's reckoning. He had a mop of black hair on his head, and deep, soulful blue eyes. It was what was in his hand that drew Arthur's attention though. He was not glad to see the crystal again, though he was grateful to know it was not in these bandits' hands. Then again, he had less confidence in the hands of a little boy.

Especially with the look the boy was giving Merlin, and the silent conversation they seemed to be having.

Morgana swept the boy up into a tight hug. He looked surprised for a moment, but then reciprocated it. For the first time, he spoke aloud, "Emrys doesn't believe me, but I don't want to see you hurt Morgana. You must take this and run. Alvarr is harmless without it."

Arthur doubted any of the bandits were harmless, but he was wise enough to understand that, compared to the power they had with the crystal, they were all harmless without it. Though Merlin still seemed hesitant, even glaring at the child, Arthur trusted him for having the courage, at such a young age, to go against his guardians. Arthur was far older, and he certainly lacked the courage to fight his father, to face the prospect of being entirely alone in the world- it was unthinkable.

He reached out to take the crystal, and his eyes met with the boy's. They were deep, expressive, but made a part of Arthur quake with fear. He grabbed the crystal, wanting to move away from the strange boy.

And found himself lying up in bed, staring at those same eyes.

Arthur rubbed his eyes, sure his vision was betraying him. He blinked once, twice, trying to figure out what was happening. He could have sworn moments before he'd been grabbing the crystal from Mordred, and yet he was now back in his bed. Had it been a dream? Had he somehow fallen unconscious upon touching the stone, perhaps reacting poorly to the magic? The latter, at least, would explain why Mordred was still there; Arthur hadn't known Mordred in the world where he did magic. Of course, if that was the case, then his memories were still all wrong, which seemed far more absurd than a random child being in his room. Throughout the dream he'd felt as if it made no sense for him to simply have false memories.

Arthur was very confused, and looked to Merlin for answers. Surely, if he'd been knocked unconscious by the crystal, Merlin would mention it upon waking. Instead he was giving Arthur dirty looks, "And you said you were capable of getting yourself up. It's nearly lunchtime! How has no one missed you?"

Arthur had no idea. He had very little idea of anything, actually. He looked over at Mordred. The boy looked almost younger than he had been in the dream. It was a dream, right? "Merlin, this may sound odd, but… I've always known of your magic, correct?"

"Of course… are you alright, Arthur?" Merlin asked, and Arthur felt tendrils of Merlin's magic reaching out to him. That assured him that reality was correct once more, though he cast a look at Mordred (if that was his name) who'd shrunken into the corner.

"Yes, just a funny dream. Who is your friend?" Arthur asked, very glad to get the conversation away from his mind. (Besides, it was odd for Merlin to bring a random child into Arthur's chambers, so it was worth asking about. Strictly speaking, Merlin wasn't allowed to bring anyone into Arthur's chambers, nevermind a random child.)

Merlin must have realized that, for he reached out, pulling the boy back within his grip. "He… well I actually don't know his name. He doesn't speak, aloud I mean. He speaks in my head, which is a skill I should learn, make my life easier than running about the castle looking for you…" Merlin was getting distracted, which wasn't very odd at all. He shook the thoughts from his head, and pulled the boy's shirt down so Arthur could see the tattoo there. "He's a druid. The guards killed his father, but I managed to rescue him. Please, Arthur, you have to help me get him out of the city. The guards saw him; they're searching the castle already."

Arthur did not have a chance to reply before the door to his chambers swung open. He moved instinctively in front of the boy, as did Merlin, though anyone with eyes would see him immediately. Morgana, it appeared, lacked them, for she came in speaking and only stopped halfway through, "Arthur, why on earth are there guards tearing apart my chambers looking for a druid bo…"

Morgana's eyes softened in a way Arthur had never before seen when she saw the boy. She knelt down before him, reaching out to touch him. Merlin held on tight to the child, but the boy, in a rare burst of courage, pulled away from the great warlock and moved towards Morgana. When their hands met, Arthur felt a strange dance of magic irradiating from them, as if their own magic was reaching out and binding them together. He looked to Merlin, to see if he'd felt it as well. Merlin didn't seem aware at all. Sensing magic, it seemed, was the one domain of magic Arthur was superior in. Merlin never seemed to notice it at all.

Quickly, however, a new thought appeared in Arthur's head- if he felt Morgana's magic tying with Merlin's then that meant… "Morgana, you have magic."

Every window, every mirror, every piece of glass in the room, shattered. Shards went flying everywhere, and slashing Arthur's arms as he used them to cover his face. Merlin shielded Mordred as well, getting long cuts in the process. Once the glass settled, Arthur looked up to see Morgana, horror wide across her face, slowly backing towards the door. Merlin reacted first, reaching out to grab her. She struggled against him, trying to pull away, but Merlin told her, "Morgana, calm down, we won't hurt you. Let us explain, please."

Morgana continued to fight Merlin, and Arthur thought quickly, looking around his room. He called upon Merlin's magic, bending it to his use, and then said carefully, "Béte."

The room righted itself, the shards flying back to their spots, and suddenly the light coming into the room was filtered once more through windows. Arthur turned to Morgana, who had stopped fighting Merlin, and was standing, mouth agape. He walked towards her, keeping his eyes locked to hers. She looked terrified, and confused, and a bit betrayed. Arthur took it all in stride, saying to her, "It's alright Morgana. You're not alone. I've been practicing magic for years. Mordred here has it. Merlin… well I think Merlin actually is it. We help each other. I suppose now we can help you as well."

"Arthur, how did you know about her magic, and how do you know this boy's name?" Merlin asked, and Arthur gulped. The boy, Mordred, was looking at him strangely. Clearly Mordred was his name, which made no sense, for Arthur hadn't been told it. He only knew from the dream, the dream that somehow wasn't a dream, for it had been right about Mordred, and it had been right about Morgana.

It was very strange. Then again, they were in Camelot. "I had a dream… It does not matter. We must get Mordred out of the city. We are all old enough to hide whatever abilities we have from my father, but Mordred is just a child. He belongs with his own people. Mordred, do you know how to find friends?"

The child did not speak, and for a long time did nothing. The seconds seemed to stretch for miles, and Arthur's heart pounded. He did not know what he would do if Mordred didn't know how to find other druids. Arthur certainly did not know where the druids hid. He only ever found them when his father ordered them slaughtered; it was no wonder they did not advertise their movements to Arthur.

Yet after an eternity, Mordred nodded. Arthur let out the breath he had not realized he was holding. "Then this should not be difficult. I am the Prince- no guard will question me. Merlin-he looks enough like you to be your little brother. We shall say he ran away to visit you, and now we must ride to Ealdor to return him. Go prepare two horses and a pony. I will tell my father I am to search for any signs of where the druids are staying. It will, for once, not be a lie."

"Prepare three horses, Merlin," Morgana snapped. Arthur went to object, but the look in her eyes grew deadly. "I am just as involved in this as you are, Arthur, and if I truly have magic, then perhaps the druids can explain it to me."

She quivered a bit at the end, but the resolve in her eyes remained firm. Arthur hated it when she got like this, yet he respected it as well. Furthermore, he knew from their childhood that it was not worth fighting her over. "Very well, but you must come up with your own excuse for my father."

Morgana smirked, "Oh I can handle Uther."

"No, that is my final answer, Morgana!" Uther declared, standing up from his throne to look his ward right in the eye. Arthur would have chuckled had not he known what a precarious line they were walking. He'd easily enough gotten permission from his father to ride out in search of the clan from which the dead druid came, but then Morgana had declared she was joining Arthur because her health demanded she spend me time outside. It was the worst excuse Arthur had ever heard, Uther too, it seemed, from his response.

"Arthur is going to find druids, evil beings who would kill you in a second were they given a chance. If you truly wish a vacation for your heath, you could join any of my lords in their country house- and perhaps even find someone to wed. You cannot go with Arthur."

Morgana would likely have continued arguing pointlessly, but Arthur saw fit to step in and save her- for Mordred's sake. He did not like having the boy remain in Camelot any longer than strictly necessary. "Father, perhaps Morgana can join me, just so far as Viscount Vorlous's country house? It would be a waste of good men for you to provide her with a different escort, and wherever the druids came from, they must have passed through his lands if they reached Camelot. It is not like they came from the sea."

Now Uther sat back down, rubbing his chin. Finally, Uther nodded, "Very well, this I can agree to. I hope, Morgana, that you learn something from Arthur one of these days. Arthur will bring you to rest at Lord Vorlous's home, and then gather you once he has rooted out any druids. Arthur, I do not think I need to tell you what your orders are should you find any druids in our lands?"

"No, Father, you do not," Arthur assured, bowing slightly to his father for good measure. Morgana glared at him, but Arthur rolled his eyes, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her from the throne room. Once they were outside and heading down to the stables to meet Merlin and Mordred, Arthur hissed at Morgana, "You can handle him, can you?"

Morgana huffed, defiance bright in her eyes, "As if you could have done much better." (Though, actually, he had). "I am having a difficult day, Arthur. There were guards in my chambers, and you suddenly reveal yourself to have magic, not to mention claiming that I… that I…"

Arthur couldn't blame her for not being able to finish that sentence. He'd chosen to do magic. As much as he didn't have it in him to stop, he technically could. Morgana, Merlin, Mordred- none of them had asked for their lives to be forfeit by the very fact of their existence. It was all wrong. Arthur didn't understand why his father was so blind.

So he looked upon Morgana sympathetically, giving her a break for her terrible attitude, just this once, "I'm sorry. Did you truly not suspect?"

Morgana bit her lip, and shook her head. "No, the problem was I did. My dreams… they keep coming true. I just didn't want to think... Well I didn't want to face the truth."

Arthur understood that for sure. The truth in life was often a terrible thing.

Arthur and Morgana hurried from the castle to the stables, and arrived a moment too late. When they got there Arthur found four knights, their blades pointed at Merlin, who held their saddled horses, and Mordred, tightly. "What is going on here?" Arthur demanded, storming over.

One of the knights, Sir Nevil, if Arthur remembered correctly, ruffled his feathers, and actually dared to smile. "Your Highness! I found the druid boy running away with this servant."

"Tell me, Sir Nolan, is there only one boy in Camelot right now?" Morgana snapped, startling even Arthur. Her gaze on the knights was intense enough they all, besides Sir Nolan, lowered their swords.

The haughty knight, however, smirked, "No, My Lady, but I know this is the one. Besides, they were stealing horses."

Arthur almost felt bad for the knight, except he seemed the boastful, arrogant type of knight, which, of course, Arthur could not stand. "Yes, and what would two fleeing druids be doing stealing four horses, not two? Do you ride faster if you have an extra horse?"

"They could be meeting up with others," Sir Nolan countered, taking a step closer to Merlin. Arthur saw Mordred looking terrified, and reached out to sense the boy's magic. It was bubbling beneath the surface dangerously. Arthur had no desire for another outburst like Morgana's; he had to diffuse the situation quickly.

"Sir Nolan, I order you to stand down. This is my servant and his foolish brother. The extra horses belong to the Lady Morgana any myself. If you are done being a blundering idiot, perhaps you all should rejoin the search for the true druid child, before he burns all of Camelot with his magic?"

Finally, Sir Nolan paled, "Oh…. My apologies, Your Highness. Of course, we shall…. We shall do just that!"

The knight raised his sword high in the air, running off, the others behind him. Arthur watched for a moment, trying to remember if he'd been concussed when granting permission for that man to be knighted. He wondered if there was a way to un-knight someone, for surely it did Camelot no good to have men like that out there fighting for them.

"Remind me, Merlin, to ensure Sir Nolan is guarding the dungeons the next time we have a magical prisoner. It shall make us freeing them significantly easier," Arthur noted mindlessly, climbing upon his horse. Merlin, who was helping Mordred mount his pony, snorted a laugh, and even Morgana chuckled.

They rode from Camelot without anyone stopping them. The guards at the gate had been ordered to check any child trying to leave the city, but they supposed a child leaving with the Prince himself was harmless. It reminded Arthur of why he'd decided it was better to remain in the graces of his father, whatever the cost. Supporting magic in secret, with deeds instead of words, was quite advantageous.


End file.
